


Batten Down the Hatches

by darkinsidehim (PJTL156)



Series: Batten Down the Hatches [1]
Category: Markiplier- Fandom, Youtubers, youtube- fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Darkstache - Freeform, Homophobia, M/M, Magic, Markiplier Manor, Masturbation, Mentions of Death, Self-Harm, The sex, anxiety and depression, mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 77,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJTL156/pseuds/darkinsidehim
Summary: Eric Derekson is terrified as he sees an eight-foot behemoth of a man duck under the door frame into Markiplier Manor. What he doesn't know is that Captain Magnum is about to change his life forever. He'd better batten down the hatches. Eric Derekson/Captain Magnum (Magic), a lot of Darkstache, and a little Yanois.
Relationships: Captain Magnum/Eric Derekson, Darkiplier/Wiliford Warfstache, Illnois/Yancy
Series: Batten Down the Hatches [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848088
Comments: 77
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've literally never seen these two shipped before, and that's a damn shame. I've decided their ship name is Magic, because why not lol.
> 
> I'll post updates every few days, and the warnings for that chapter will be added to the tags. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment if you do.

Sharp, icy daggers of fear puncture Eric’s heart. This feeling wasn't anything new. But as he saw an eight-foot behemoth creature duck under the door frame into the mansion, Eric felt a fear he never has before. Icicles were suddenly blasted with fire as cold tendrils drip down his body only to freeze once more.

Eyes wide and hands shaking, the horrified man starts to hyperventilate. Sweaty hands kneed together under the meeting room table. An already nervous heart hammers loudly in his skull.

The man was huge with rough features and arms that could throw him across an entire football field. It was all so overwhelming. How was this looming man a new ego? Why did he smell like sushi? And how was he so big? He was easily two feet taller than all of the other egos. Eric couldn't know any of these answers. All he did know was he was about ten seconds away from wetting himself.

All the other egos start to introduce themselves, the more naïve ones practically crawling over one another to meet him first.

Dark and Wilford were the ones that let the man in, standing like perfect hosts. The patriarchs were looking at the younger egos like they were their disobedient children. Google stares angrily at Bing as he and the Jim's fight one another for dibs. Bim and Host were waiting their turn, looking creepy and foreboding as always. Eric wasn't sure where Yancy and Illinois, the formerly newest egos until this moment, happened to be.

The new ego -apparently some sort of gigantic, sinister pirate- surveys the chaotic room around him. Then his eyes settle on Eric.

All coherent thoughts cease. Time stops and speeds up like an out of control train. Everything seems to invert itself. Those dark eyes were sharp and intimidating, piercing his soul.

The eye contact lasts only a second, but it was a second too long.

Blabbering foolishly, the frightened prey shoots up from the table with a meek excuse no one hears, running out the other doorway with a determination to beat all others.

He doesn't stop until he makes it back to his quarters. Safe. Secure. Alone. He triple-checks the deadbolt and chain on his door before heading to his comfortable bed. Eric sits on the edge, heart still pounding.

He knows it was rude; can feel the shame from running away creeping in.

'No one will even notice I'm not there,' Eric tells himself sadly.

The young man makes a pained noise, mostly emotional, partially physical. The new prosthetic legs are starting to feel uncomfortable. Doctor Iplier helped them fit better, but only so much can be done.

A choking sound escapes him as he slips them off, the freedom a relief, the pain of wearing them all day dulling the satisfaction.

Carefully leaning toward his bedside table, Eric takes some prescribed ointment and rubs it on the sore spot where the rest of his two limbs used to be. His face screws up in a pain that comes from more sources than even he can recall anymore.

Glancing at his phone tells him it's not late enough to go to sleep. He takes off his shirt and pants to lie down anyway. In just his boxers and undershirt, he slips under the covers and sighs happily. A soft, cozy blanket wraps around him, protective and warm.

His phone casts a soft light against his face as he scrolls through social media. It's calming to see the hustle and bustle of the day from the comfort of his own bed. The outside world is filled with new things that intrigue and mortify him. Eric's content to stay in his room and dream, never daring to try anything new himself.

After a few minutes he ends up on a blog about puppies, grinning at his phone. The adorableness assaults him.

There's a ting and a vibration he's embarrassed to say makes him to jump. The message pops up, simple yet angry. It's from someone he knows all too well, yet somehow not at all.

"Where are you?" is all Dark wrote, but it's enough to cause a panic attack.

'Oh, god,' Eric thinks to himself. 'He noticed.'

Eric's hands wring around his bedsheets. He had just up and left a meeting. And a special one too. They have a new ego and he just took off without a coherent word. Dark was going to castrate him.

Eric curls into a ball, fingers grabbing the sheets like a lifeline. The muscle pain from gripping so tightly is the only thing keeping him sane.

The new ego surely already hated him. It was inevitable. His siblings had barely tolerated him. His father wished he had perished with his brothers. The other egos steered clear. Eric knew everyone despised him. And, most of all, Eric hated himself. So, it wasn't worth the new ego’s time to even be introduced to the mousey man.

His shivering figure rocks back and forth, panic radiating off his small form. Quakes of anxiety tremble through him. Eric knows he should put his prosthetics back on, march out there and introduce himself.

But he can't. He just can't. Of everyone in the house he's the weakest. He knows it. Among his siblings and peers, he always was. Nothing has changed. He was feeble. There wasn't even enough courage in him to text Dark back.

Desperate, Eric turns off his phone and sets it on the nightstand. It sits there, mocking him. Like even it knows ignoring his problems won't make them go away.

Eric makes a soft, pained sound as he covers his head with the no-longer-comforting blanket.

'I'm such an idiot! Dark probably doesn't even want me there, he just wants to keep up appearances. He doesn't like me. No one does.'

What he doesn't know is Dark very much disagrees with him. The older ego always thought Bing and the Jim's were the weakest links, and he wasn't afraid to admit that. The glitchy greyscale being always had a secret soft spot for Eric. He reminded him of himself when he was younger: soft, sweet, and believing in the best in everyone, even when they didn't deserve it.

Dark wasn't the only one who took a liking to Eric, but none of the other egos were great at expressing their feelings either. So, all things important became unsaid and unheard.

When a knock comes upon the door, Eric has no way of knowing it’s the ballistic one with the massively chaotic energy.

With a sniffle, Eric speaks. 

"Pl- please leave."

"Open the door, Eric," comes Wilford's voice.

It sends him careening back to his childhood home, his father screaming at him through his bedroom door. Afraid to come out. Afraid to move. Knowing there would be consequences either way.

Trapped and helpless, Eric grips the sheets tighter, unable to force the memory away. Nothing can save him now.

"Ple- please go away."

Of course, instead of listening, a bullet shoots through the door, bursting the wood into splinters on the carpet.

Eric screams like any normal person would do. Electrified, his body shoots up, blanket covering his body like a flannel shield.

Wilford stands outside in the hallway completely unfazed, shotgun in hand. He shows no emotion on his face except annoyance.

"Where were you? Dark'll be furious if you don't come out here."

That definitely doesn't help Eric's guilt.

What Wilford said wasn't entirely true, though. Dark wasn't furious with Eric, he was just at a loss with the captain.

Wilford himself was tired of trying to entertain the man. He didn't understand any of his jokes. The other egos had said their goodbyes already and it left Wilford and Dark alone with the captain and the Jim's.

Since they were the heads of the household they were stuck being gracious hosts. Both of them were honestly quit shit at it. They hadn't been good at connecting with other people since the 1920s. And all the twins kept doing was ask a million questions and offhandedly call him dummy thicc. That turned into a ten-minute conversation with them poorly explaining internet culture to a man who didn't know what the internet was.

So, long story short, Dark was murderous and Wilford was close to letting him be. But he figured the Jim's worked in the same building Warfstache Tonight was filmed in, and if they died it would be really awkward at work. So, Wilford figured bringing out Eric would keep Dark from going postal. And most importantly keep him from having to write two eulogies.

After Eric had calmed down a little, Wilford stepped over the broken shards and into the no longer oasis of his room.

"I... I'm sorry," Eric gasps, scrambling for his legs.

Wilford puts up a hand.

"Believe me, you dodged a bullet."

By the looks of his door, Eric figures he dodged two.

"But it would mean a lot to Dark if you would introduce yourself, blah blah blah, I don't care." Wilford makes a hurry up signal with his hands. "Just get ready and go say hello to the captain."

"C- captain?" That piqued his interest. "He's a captain?"

A man with respect. Power. Dignity, perhaps. That was hard to find in the manor. Eric would be lying if that didn't intrigue him.

Wilford must have caught on. He wiggles his eyebrows and elbows him in the arm, gaining an "ow" from the fragile man.

"Why, you got a thing for men in uniform?"

Mortified, Eric puts his hands up and stutters.

"N-no, wh- why would you say that? I'm... I'm not-"

Putting up an understanding hand, Wilford shakes his head.

"It's fine. Really. I get it. They’re hard to resist."

A surprisingly tender hand rests upon Eric's shoulder. Eric looks at it, then up into Wilford's eyes. A warm understanding meets him.

"How many times do I have to tell you? We don't care that you're gay. Hell, we practically embrace it here. You won't be judged for it. I'm definitely not straight. Dark's..." Wilford pauses, mustache wiggling in thought. "I don't actually know what Dark is, but he's certainly not straight either."

The suggestive tone makes Eric wonder exactly how Wilford knows that.

Ignoring the way Wilford reminisces to himself, Eric looks away with a fragile happiness in his heart. Eric had never actually admitted his sexuality to any of the egos. Wilford was much more perceptive than people gave him credit for.

He's not used to people accepting that he's gay. It certainly didn't go over well when he told his family. And it wasn't long after he came out that the... tragedy happened.

Eric feels himself swirl into panic, but he doesn't have a chance to get caught in his own thoughts long. Suddenly he's being lifted.

With a pitiful squeal he grabs Wilford's shoulders as the older ego hoists him up. Eric stammers as Wilford carries him easily out of the room.

"B- but I'm not wearing my prosthetics! What- oh god- w-what will the new guy think?"

With a frustratingly calm shrug, Wilford answers.

"Doesn't matter. He won't care."

"He... He won't? Why?"

"Because he's just like you," Wilford throws out casually, as though anyone has ever said that about Eric before.

"He won't… care?" The hopeful elation stops Wilford dead for a moment. "How is- how is he like me?"

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised," says the cheeky man while flashing a sunny smile.

After that Wilford drops the conversation.

Oodles of possibilities run through Eric's head, but nothing prepares him for what's about to come.

When Wilford saunters them toward the meeting room Eric sees Dark first. He's gritting his teeth so hard he's glitching all over the place. He can faintly hear the Jim twins talking, barely heard over Dark's angry buzzing.

Wilford kicks the door open, holding a very frightened Eric. Every eye snaps to the eccentric ego and the very nervous one before realizing it was just like every other Thursday. Their attention soon goes back to the new ego.

Everyone was looking at the captain, but the captain had his eyes on one person and one person alone.

Eric gulps hard, mouth filled with sand. He watches as the man looks at him, those eyes so warm yet fierce. It does something to Eric that he just couldn't explain. It shook him to the bone.

When the captain's eyes scour his body, Eric wants to leave immediately. But Wilford would never let him.

The captain's curious eyes end up on Eric's legs. Panicking, Eric withers in Wilford's grasp.

"Lad, you... you don't have legs."

Eric blinks away impending tears, embarrassed and ashamed. He tries to speak but all that comes out is an embarrassing sob. Eric grips Wilford's shirt, about to cry.

The captain gives him a look of concern before hoisting up his legs. With a loud smack the captain throws his legs onto the table and points.

"'Tis alright. No need to be sad. We match!"

Sniffling, he cautiously glances over. The captain had pulled up his pant legs. Just below his knees is wood and nothing else. No flesh.

Eric stares in wonder. He's telling the truth. The man doesn't have any legs, just like him. As usual, Wilford was right. The captain doesn't care. Eric is in awe. 

'We match.'

The words echo and bounce around his head, sparkling with joy.

The captain gave a hearty laugh that fill Eric's heart until it overflows. Chest fluttering, Eric swallows down whatever he was feeling. He'd never felt so instantly drawn to someone in his life. Eric can't believe it. Another ego with prosthetics? It's such a breath of fresh air. He's never known anyone else with the same physical struggles as himself. People thought they understood, but they just didn't. Everything was more difficult when you had a disability. Everything. Having another ego to talk to about that sort of thing, someone who could understand his pain and frustration and sadness... It was a miracle. For the first time in a _very_ long time, Eric felt genuine excitement.

"You..." starts Eric with no set destination in mind.

“Aye. Lost ‘em in a freak garroting incident. I didn't see the cannonball coming. Next thing ye know I'm bleeding out in the ocean. I grabbed a barrel an' rode it to shore, bandaged meself up with me shirt and I've been this way ever since."

He said it so matter of fact. Like it didn't bother him anymore. Like he wasn't ashamed.

Quietly elated, Eric could feel admiration for this man grow tenfold. The captain must sense the approval because he gives Eric a sweet smile.

"What's yer name, lad? I bet it's beautiful, a handsome young man like yerself."

'Did... did he really just say that?'

Eric turns a bright crimson. Wilford finally has the good taste to set him down in a chair. Dark clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable but glad to finally have a good, albeit awkward, excuse to flee.

"Well, we'd better leave you to it. Jim's, leave, now."

"But Dark-" they start, two whiny children.

One look from the angry father figure and the twins were gone.

With an air of dignity, Dark stands, fixes his jacket, and looks at his old friend. Wilford gives him a wink. Dark rolls his eyes. He extends his hand to the captain, the much larger man taking it with more softness than a person his size should be able to have.

"It was nice to meet you, Captain. Eric, I trust you'll be fine on your own?"

Eric nods with a soft smile from his chair. Dark gives him a strained one back. It's the best he can do after dealing with those damn Jim's.

He turns to Wilford and the two walk out together, Wilford whispering as they go.

Then they're all alone.

Eric nervously realizes he has no idea what he's doing. He doesn't know how to talk to people. Half the time he doesn't even know how to talk to _himself_.

The embarrassed young man rubs his neck, chuckling awkwardly. His mouth opens several times as if to say something, yet nothing comes out. The captain just watches him patiently. Surveys him. Like he's an interesting piece at the MET and he's trying to decipher what was going on in the artist's head.

After a few awkward seconds, Eric still doesn't know what to say. He puts his hands in his lap, surprised to find skin. When he looks down he's mortified to see he's still only wearing a tank top and boxers.

"So, yer name’s Eric, huh? A strong name. It suits you"

"Oh, I'm... I'm not very strong, though," Eric interjects, his hand nervously rubbing his neck.

The captain blinks before swiftly recovering.

"I think yer not giving yerself enough credit, lad. Strength isn't all in muscles."

Eric doesn't expect that philosophy from such a behemoth of a man, but appreciates the sentiment.

"What's your name? If- if I may ask."

The captain takes off his hat and tips it respectfully.

"Captain Magnum, at yer service."

The hat settles back onto his head atop a yellow bandana.

"So, whaddya like ta do in yer spare time?"

"Uh, well, I- I like to read."

"What genres?"

Excitement bubbles up between his ribs. Eric loves any and every chance he gets to gush about his interests.

"Any type, really. Mystery, romance, Sci fi, adventure-"

The captain perks up at adventure.

"Aye, I love me a good adventure."

The captain pauses, eye contact so unwavering it starts making Eric uncomfortable. He's just not sure in what way exactly.

"What do ye do for a living?"

"Well, sometimes I do- I do commercials for my dad's company."

The captain slams his hand on the table in triumph, making Eric jump.

"That's wonderful. You're an actor! I dabbled in the arts meself. Not for me, but it was a lotta fun, I tell ye."

Honestly, Eric was a little ashamed to admit he couldn't act to save his life. Instead of correcting him, he powers through, curious to know more about this mystery man.

"What about… What about you?"

"Oh, sailing the seas mostly. Finding treasure. Drinking with me mates. Normal pirate things."

Eric has to admit that sounds pretty fun.

"Can I tell you something, Captain?"

The captain nods, eager.

"I've never actually drank before," he confides.

The captain let's out a laugh and slaps his knee. It fills Eric's soul with a golden glow. Usually Eric felt like people were laughing _at_ him, not _with_ him. Not with this man. He was different. Special somehow. Eric couldn't be happier that Wilford dragged him out here.

"Yer kiddin'?" he asks amused.

Eric nods his head, an unsure smile curling at his lips.

"Well, we'll have to change that, won't we?" The captain pauses, worrying at his lip. "If you’d like to, of course. If it's a choice thing, I completely understand."

Eric let's out a breath he doesn't know he’s been holding hostage.

"I'd love to, actually. I just never really had friends to go out with. And... drinking alone doesn't sound very fun."

Though he hates to admit not having friends, the captain doesn't seem to judge. Instead, he surprises him in a way that Eric isn't prepared for.

"Well, you've got one friend here who'd love to."

'A friend. I have a friend?'

Eric hopes his expression isn't too telling, because he swears he's never felt happier.

xxoxx

The next couple hours went by like a warm breeze on a summer’s night. The two men chattered on about anything in particular. The captain grabbed them a couple drinks, sitting more relaxed in the meeting room than anyone probably ever had.

Eventually the captain brings up what should be a simple topic. It definitely isn't.

"What's yer family like?"

Eric chokes on his soda. The captain gets big eyes and walks over to Eric, sitting next to him.

"Ye alright, lad?" chances the captain, slapping his back in case he's choking. Eric nods, but he's not okay at all.

Understanding, the captain puts a sturdy hand on his shoulder which Eric leans into instinctually.

"I come from a large family, b- but the only ones left are my dad and me. My mom, she... well. My brothers, they, um..."

How could Eric explain this to someone? That they were all dead? That it was all his fault? Everything was always his fault. Every living being he ever got close to always died tragically, leaving Eric alone, ashamed, and frankly a little suicidal.

"’Tis, fine. You don't have to tell me. I understand. My family's gone too."

The captain pulls him in for a sideways hug. Eric wants so badly to bury his face in that wide chest and forget about the world. He's not sure what this feeling is, and it scares him enough that he refrains.

Instead he chokes back the tears, not wanting to open that wound in his heart again.

"What about a special girl in yer life?" the captain hesitantly implores, probably afraid to ask. "Are ye courtin' anyone?"

"Not in a long time. I dated someone once, but it didn't..."

Eric gulps. God, what a depressing life. Will the captain even want to be his friend after all this negativity? Surely he'll catch on quickly that everyone around him meets a horrendous demise.

"Didn't end well?" suggests the captain, bringing Eric back to Earth.

Eric nods in agreement, chewing on his options. The captain sighs sadly, squeezing his arm.

He wasn't sure if he should tell him the truth. He could react like Wilford, or try to beat him within an inch of his life like his father. How was he going to tell him that his first and only partner wasn't actually a girl? People usually didn't have a good reaction when he told them he wasn't straight. If his brothers hadn't hauled Derek off of him Eric's pretty sure he would have met his mother in the afterlife that night. It was still a defense mechanism for Eric to fib about these sorts of things. Could he trust the captain with the truth?

He was too afraid to test the waters.

The captain must sense the anxiety through his sloped shoulders and curled in body because he decides to speak.

"I know how ye feel, laddie. I've had plenty o’ partners on the sea, and some never made it back to land. One was me first mate. Got shot in the stomach, bled out in my arms. 'Tis never easy."

Eyes glossed over from old yet always fresh loss, the captain gives Eric's shoulder a squeeze. Eric was both relieved and horribly saddened. He has a feeling he’s telling the truth. That being a pirate meant losing a lot more than just basic hygiene.

Twiddling his thumbs, Eric took a deep, wavering breath.

"I'm sorry about your first mate."

The captain pats his arm then removes his hand. Eric instantly misses the contact.

"And I about yer girl."

Eric gulps. Now was a good time to come clean. It was now or never.

"Actually, m- my partner was a boy. I didn't- I didn't know if you'd be okay with the fact that I- I'm..."

Eric tries to admit his sexuality, but he can’t say it. He hasn't said it out loud since he told his father. He'd called him a terrible slur and pushed his face to the ground. So, Eric bottled it up, took his father's advice to try to fix himself, and never outwardly told anyone again. Even though he knew the egos were all very chill about homosexuality, and most of them weren't straight either, it was still hard to take away more than two decades worth of anxiety and internalized homophobia.

The captain took a second to piece together the dots into the very straightforward line.

"Yer gay?"

Eric huddles into an even smaller ball.

"Is- is that, I mean, is that... okay?"

Eric waits for the rejection. It was coming. His new friend would be repulsed by him. Tell him he was disgusting. Against God. He should repent. Force himself to be straight. That he shouldn't exist. Everything they always said.

Eric wants to cry.

"Course it is. Besides, that means I have a chance with-" The captain cuts himself off.

Eyebrow raised, Eric’s about to ask what he was going to say when the captain looks pointedly at his pocket watch.

"Oh, look at the time. We must be getting our beauty rest. Well, I be. You don't need a wink."

Eric couldn't grasp what that could possibly mean but the blush above the captain’s beard and the way he looks away means he must have said something embarrassing. Usually the butt of every joke, Eric surely wasn't one to embarrass him. On purpose, anyway. So, he drops it.

When he goes to get up he realizes painfully that he can't. There was no way. He unwillingly left his prosthetics in his room. Now he was trapped here, helpless. Eric starts to hyperventilate, hand digging in his pocket for his baby blanket to no avail. He remembers that his pants are in his bedroom and he's half naked. That just makes it worse.

Disgusted with himself, Eric stares painfully at where his lower legs used to be. He can still feel them, but now there's a vast nothing.

The captain gave him a funny look, growing more worried by the second. Eric wants to scream. Everything had been going so well, now he was fucking it all up by having an anxiety attack.

Groaning angrily, Eric's hands grip the table. It hasn't felt this way in years. Flashes of the hospital assault him. Of the long, painful physical therapy. Trying on prosthetics for the first time and falling on his face. His father's face when he looks at him now, like he wishes anyone else had survived but him.

Stomach boiling, Eric wants to scream. To flip the table and stand up like he used to. To walk without thinking about it. He wants his fucking legs back.

A soft touch settles upon his shoulder. Eric turns to see it's the captain’s large hand, his rugged face peering down concerned and understanding.

"What ails ya, lad?" the captain leans over and whispers.

"Just that I don't- I don't have my prosthetics a- and I'm not sure how I'm gonna get back to my room."

The captain stands with some wobbliness yet succeeds nevertheless.

"Ah. I understand. No worries, my boy."

Still deflated, Eric perks up a slight bit, realizing that he actually does understand. 

"It'll be okay. The ol' captain will take care o' ye. If you'll let me."

The captain puts out his arms in askance. Not having much other choice, Eric nods. At least he had the tact to ask first. Wilford was another story. But, honestly, Wilford was always another story.

When the captain picks Eric up there was no grunt, no pain, no discomfort. Just lifting him up like he weighed half a pound. It startles Eric how quickly he flies up into the air.

He grabs onto the captain’s shoulders for dear life, instinctually burying his face in the crook of his neck. The captain jolts, breath escaping like pain.

Mortified he's hurt him, Eric detaches so fast the captain almost loses his grip. Muscles tensing, Eric's sure they'll topple forward like a sad sack of potatoes. Gladly the man was damn strong and holds them steady.

"I- I'm so sorry," Eric stutters, mortified.

The captain gives him a small smile like it's nothing.

"Don't be," the captain soothes. "There's no need to apologize, lad. Just hold on tight. Don't wanna drop ye."

They start to move down the hallways back to Eric's bedroom. When they get to his quarters Eric let's out a frustrated groan. His door was still in tatters strewn about the floor. How was he supposed to fix this?

"Um..." the captain starts, neither having any idea how to fix such a mess. "I don't want ye to think I'm judging ye, but... is yer door usually like this?"

"No, it- it just happened before I came to the meeting room."

"What the hell happened to it?"

"Wilford," explains Eric in one word.

"Ah," the captain says. Apparently he’s already figured out Wilford's dramatic personality in that short time of knowing him.

Not knowing what else to do, the captain steps over the door, wood crunching easily under his weight. He takes Eric over to the bed and gently lays him down. Eric smiles sweetly up at him, surprised when the captain looks quickly away. He scratches his neck nervously and looks around his bedroom. There's not much there to look at.

"This is yer room, huh?"

Eric's a little embarrassed to have a man in his room. Even if he has no chance with him whatsoever. He hopes it doesn't make a terrible first impression regardless.

"Uh huh. If you, uh, ever need anything, Google is on that side of me," Eric points in front of him; "and the Host is on the other. Dark and Wilford are across the hallway in the master bedrooms."

Being the oldest, just like with his brothers, Dark and Wilford got the bigger rooms. Not that it mattered. Eric didn't need much. He had a TV and could stream videos and music if he chose. He had an old Gameboy from when he was a child to play videogames, plenty of books on his bookshelf, board games, a deck of cards, a magic kit shoved in the closet he never got good at. Marvin said he would teach him but never had. That was basically it.

Reading was his favorite hobby and what books he didn't own he could get on his Kindle, or Dark had in his office. No one else but Wilford was allowed in there. Eric heard that started when the Jim's moved in. He’d even installed security cameras in his office because of their shenanigans.

But Eric was given a free pass since he was so quiet and handled the books with more care than the greyscale man himself. Sometimes he'd sit in a cushy highbacked Victorian chair while the other man did paperwork or read on his own, just sitting in silence and enjoying the quiet company. Eric liked to hope that Dark didn't only tolerate him then, but actually kind of liked him. And Eric would be right. He likes most egos, and most egos like him back. Even if he refused to believe it.

Bim and Host were a tad weird. He usually steered clear of them out of self-preservation. Sometimes Google could be a colossal prick and hurt his feelings, but Bing would cheer him up with his goofy smile and dumb jokes. The more social android would tell Google off, make him apologize even if he didn't want to, and that made it more bearable.

"So..." starts the captain, pulling him from his own mind. "I'll see ye in the mornin’, ey? For breakfast?"

Eric smiles wider.

"I'll see you there, bright and early."

"Well, I dunno about early, it's already two."

"What?" sputters Eric, glancing at his phone still sitting on his nightstand. Since he’d turned it off a black screen meets him.

The captain chuckles, stirring something inside Eric.

"I'll see ye. Goodnight Lad."

The smile he gives him is too soft, too understanding. Gulping, Eric chokes out a goodbye before he thinks too hard. Before he feels something he'll regret.

"Goodnight Captain."

Momentarily, the captain dawdles, like he's about to ask something. An unforeseen force stops him. Thinking better of it he smiles one last time before exiting the disaster of a room.

For a few loudly silent minutes Eric just lies there, wondering why memories of the night won't stop overturning in his brain.

He decides to turn himself over and get some of that shut eye the captain was talking about. When he does fall into peaceful slumber he dreams of open seas, warm salty breezes, and a strong figure holding him at his side.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning starts with a loud bang and a scream. So, a typical morning at Markiplier Manor. Still, Eric woke with a start. You never get used to gunfire going on inside your own house. Blinking sleep from his eyes, Eric sits up, listening intently.

"God dammit, Will, must you use that infernal thing inside?" Dark barks, two levels angrier than he usually gets.

"Well, there's been a fly bothering me all day. What was I supposed to do? _Not_ kill it?" Wilford snorts like that very idea was preposterous.

After a long-suffering pause, Dark speaks.

"Yes! Or use a flyswatter like the rest of us. Why did you have to shoot my desk?"

Eric figures the pause meant Dark was running careful fingers over the now gaping hole in his beautiful antique mahogany desk.

"This is over two-hundred years old, Will. It was our grandmother's. It's a family heirloom. One of the only things we have left."

Eric frowns. Poor Dark. Wilford was quite destructive. Not on purpose, but the damage still stood.

"Well, I'm sorry," Wilford admits, voice with a level of discomfort. "I'll fix it."

Dark sighs.

"That's not going to fix two-hundred-year-old craftsmanship."

Eric could imagine the indifferent shrug Wilford would give to his friend.

"Suit yourself. Then I won't do anything."

Dark's voice gets low and cold. Eric almost couldn't hear him. If Wilford hadn't mowed down his damn door last night, he probably wouldn't be hearing most of this conversation so clearly.

"Yes, you are. You will fix my desk, William, or there will be consequences."

'William?' ponders Eric.

Before he can do so for long Wilford says: "Yes, dear."

Eric's eyes go wide.

'Dear?' muses Eric. That's definitely weirder than calling him William.

Eric decides now is a good time to slip on his prosthetics and see for himself what's going on. If he can without getting caught.

Carefully, so he doesn't lose his balance and hurt himself, the curious man practically tiptoes over to the splintered door and peeks out. He can see Dark standing in the doorway, watching as Wilford walks down the corridor. The man shakes his head and gives a sigh before turning around and heading back into his office. Eric curses to himself that he missed all the commotion.

Dear? William? That was enough to process on its own.

No longer occupied, Eric goes to his closet and grabs some clothes - a cardigan and some jeans- and gets dressed. There was a certain ego who promised to see him, and Eric would be damned if he wasn't giddy to get to know his new friend better. Happier than he's been in a long time, Eric walks toward the kitchen with a skip in his step.

It was Friday, so it was Bim's turn to make breakfast. Which basically meant you'd better eat backup cereal, because the choice of meat for the day could very well be your neighbor. And Eric's not about to resort to cannibalism.

When Eric gets to the kitchen it's packed with egos starting their day. Bing and Google are in a heated conversation about cheese superiority. Bing says the best, hands down, is sliced American, to which Google is vehemently protesting, "That isn't even real cheese!"

Bim is cooking up sausage links in a frying pan while Doctor Iplier asks where exactly the oddly shaped sausage came from. Only Bim himself and Host will actually eat anything he makes. And that's exactly why Eric tries to avoid them both at all costs.

Wilford is nowhere to be seen, presumably working on the desk he maimed, but Dark is sitting in his usual spot drinking coffee and reading this morning’s news on his tablet. The Google’s got it for him for Christmas the previous year. It took him a long time to get the hang of it. Now he loves the thing.

Watching the man, Eric couldn't help but feel Dark was much older than he seemed. The Jim's liked to call him Boomer behind his back.

Speaking of, the Jim twins were eating Lucky Charms and talking to themselves. Eric overhears a bit about how the cereal could possibly possess magical powers, and how that should be their breaking story of the day.

And then, sitting between them all, smiling and looking much happier to be there than any other ego had been their first official day, was Captain Magnum. When he saw Eric walk in, he’d immediately went from a protective scowl to a grin and patted the seat next to him. He'd been saving it for him. The thought makes Eric's mind fizzle.

Dark glances up momentarily at the gargantuan ego, then to where he was looking. Eric's legs stop working for a second when Dark makes eye contact, but to his surprise, Dark actually looks happy. He gives Eric the faintest of smiles. Or, more accurately put, a slight constriction of his facial muscles barely detectable by anyone except those who knew him. Then the man simply goes back to his news.

Eric gives the captain a little wave and a smile he can't contain. He grabs some cereal, a bowl, milk, and a spoon before rushing over to his new friend.

When he sits down the captain claps him on the back and let his hand linger for a second before going back to his hash browns.

"Cereal, eh? Yer not gonna try the grub?" asks the captain, face full of potatoes. It's quite endearing.

Eric shakes his head violently and leans in toward the captain. The large man bends to his right so Eric can whisper in his ear.

"I wouldn't eat the meat if I were you. We- we're pretty sure it's human."

The captain’s eyes go wide and he sits back up. For a second he just stares at Bim's back, wondering if it's true. Then he glances back to Eric.

"Really?"

Eric nods solemnly. The captain looks back at the cook with a bit of nervousness, fingers absentmindedly playing with his fork.

"I'm honestly a little curious now, though,” the older man admits.

Sheepish, the captain looks back at Eric. The younger man's mouth goes wide.

"I was just kidding, lad," he claims after a moment. The captain laughs if off nervously. Eric isn't sure he believes him.

"Anyway, do ye want some meat?” the captain continues. “I can go look in the ice box and rustle ye up somethin'."

Eric shakes his head.

"N- no thank you. I'm actually… a vegetarian."

He says it almost like it's a disease. As though he regrets his decision, though he absolutely doesn't. Sometimes Eric hated to admit that to people because they reacted the same way his family did when he told them he was gay. So, not well.

The captain blinks hard but doesn't seem overly fazed for long.

"Really? Interesting. I couldn't do that on the sea. Not enough protein ta go around. Had a lotta salted meat an' fish."

"I understand. I didn't- I wasn't trying to insult you, or- or suggest anything."

The captain waves a dismissing hand, showing he understands.

"Is it hard? To be vegetarian?"

"No,” Eric says shaking his head. “It's harder on other people than it is on me."

The captain cocks his head and takes another bite of hashbrowns before speaking.

"How so?"

"Well, they don't understand why I am. When I tell them it's because I love animals, they usually say s- something weird, like 'I do too, on my dinner plate.'"

The captain, bless him, looks angry at that.

"People think that's funny?"

"Apparently," shrugs Eric, sighing.

The captain claps him on the shoulder.

"Forget those guys. They obviously don't understand ye. Yer sticking to your guns, laddie. That's very admirable."

Eric beams as happiness spreads in his chest. No one had ever said that before. They told him it was very stupid of him, or he couldn't possibly survive without meat. Some people said it was cool, but no one had ever told him it was admirable. The captain was full of pleasant surprises. The man watches Eric beam and gives him a grin he just can't contain.

They go back to their respective breakfast after a moment. Eric was surprised to see that the captain ate a lot. As in, enough for roughly three people. - fried eggs, hash browns, orange juice “to stop scurvy,” he said, yogurt, and even a bowl of cereal. He ate like he'd been starved for a week. Which, Eric realized, if he just came off a ship, that was entirely possible. Or it was just because he was a big and muscular guy and needed more than the others. Surprisingly to Eric, none of it was meat. Eric was impressed, and just a little proud, that he inspired him to try something new without even trying.

"You know, I- I won't be offended if you eat meat."

"Ye noticed that, eh?" says the embarrassed captain.

He looks a little relieved. Eric finds that achingly sweet, that smile. That laugh. Those eyes. It confuses him beyond compare.

After breakfast the egos all start going their separate ways. The ones who had jobs left quickly. The ones like himself and the captain were left twiddling their thumbs.

"Do ye have anywhere ta be?"

Eric shakes his head, sad that he never has plans, but hopeful that he will now.

"Do you?"

The captain shakes his head too.

"Ney. I still have to unpack me things. Won't take long, but it's gotta be done."

"Would you like some help?" offers Eric eagerly before realizing he's crossed some sort of boundary. He's about to apologize when the captain puts up a hand.

"No, that's alright lad. Ye have better things to do."

"Actually, I don't work for my dad much anymore and I don't - I don't know what to do with my time most days. S- so I can help if you'd like."

The captain gives him a courteous smile.

"That's very kind, lad. But I'm sure ye don't wanna spend the day with an old bag o' bones like meself."

"Yes, I do," blurts Eric.

All too late he realizes that, not only was he letting himself address the captain as a bag of bones, but that he might be overstepping even more boundaries.

"B- b- but that's okay. I- I understand. You need time to yourself."

Panicking, Eric breathes hard, trying to collect himself and failing miserably. He goes to stand up, but a large hand stops him, keeping him in his chair.

"Whoa, easy there. No need to get worked up. If ye wanna help I'd much appreciate it."

Still nervous, Eric turns back to him and deflates when he sees the concerned face peering back. He hates it when he makes people give him that look. He despises to be pitied. Yet there's a warmth behind those caramel eyes that makes Eric speak.

"I'd… I would love to help."

Smiling faintly, the captain stands with ease and takes their dirty dishes and silverware to the sink. Then he turns and waits for Eric who's still sitting dumbfounded.

There was something different about this man. A kind of electric, magnetic aura Eric couldn't understand. And a feeling sitting in his chest he was too afraid to admit was there.

The captain stands there, waiting. His smile grows bigger as he realizes Eric is lost in a trance staring admiringly at him. His eyebrow lifts, pleased with himself. It shakes Eric out of his silent reverie.

The younger man stands post haste, entirely embarrassed, and follows the captain toward his quarters.

It's a short walk. One he's taken many times in his year of living in the manor. Yet it seems like it stretches forever. The hall continues on like that one iconic shot in Jaws, or an eighties horror movie; as though it gets further away the closer you come.

Walking alongside the captain makes him feel small and meek. Not in a disappointing way. It's how he used to feel as a child walking with an adult he looked up to. Protected. Safe. Immune to everyone else. It's rare to find that level of contentment in adulthood. Somehow he found it among this gigantic ego.

Affection rising, Eric watches the man as he strides down the hall. He doesn't go fast, but his leg span makes Eric have to pick up a little speed. Those giant tree trunk legs must be absurdly heavy to haul around all day, and Eric has to admit he's impressed. Under all those ragged clothes and cloths must be a very ripped, insanely strong man.

Eric gulps, the image of strong muscles and sun-tanned skin wet after a swim in the ocean fills his vision. He thinks of the two of them on a secluded beach far away from prying eyes. They're lying on a blanket, not wearing much. In his fantasy the captain looks at him with love in his eyes and smiles.

Panic takes hold. His senses run wild. The thought of wanting to touch, wanting to kiss, to know what it feels like to make love leaves his legs quaking. His mortified eyes widen in fear.

Eric has to shake his head to throw the scandalous thought away. Afraid the captain would somehow feel his sinfulness creeping at his side, Eric grips the hems of his sweater sleeves and holds on for all his might. Desperate, he hopes that thought never crosses his mind again.

The captain suddenly stops and Eric almost runs into him. Afraid the touch will be Holy water to a demon, Eric snaps back, almost losing his footing and tumbling backward. Gladly the captain sees this and grabs his arm. Eric gasps, experiencing the one thing he was trying to avoid: touch. The captain gives him a frightened look.

"Sorry, didn't want ye to fall."

'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' Eric chides himself.

"Th- th- thank you," Eric says aloud, hardly able to finish the two words.

Pink cheeks and almost falling leaves him flustered. Eric’s eyes fall downcast. He's so frustrated he seriously considers backing out and claiming he's fallen ill. He hopes the other man doesn't ask why he’s so embarrassed and chalks it up to almost running face first into his back.

Gladly he must, because the next thing he knows, the captain opens his door. Eric's mouth falls open. The younger man couldn't leave if he tried. There’s a treasure chest, gold coins scattered on the simple dresser that matches his, and maps rolled up and wrapped with twine. On the bed are even more coins and jewels: silver and gold, rubies and emeralds, diamonds and sapphires, gems Eric had never seen before. There were jewels in every shape and color imaginable. Eric’s mouth gapes further.

The captain is watching him, gauging his expression. He looks very pleased, chest puffing. His smile grows while he laughs amusedly at the younger man.

"Some people think when I say I'm a pirate that I've never found much treasure. But I didn't get ta be a captain with poor map readin' skills."

Eric stands in awe, missing the wink he's given.

Unfazed, the captain starts rummaging around in a little wooden box, presumably looking for something. There are a few necklaces and a bunch of rings that Eric can see, none of which are costume jewelry. Eric’s eyes sparkle. They must all be extremely expensive. Eric isn't a material sort of person, but he'd be damned if he wasn't impressed.

"Ah!" exclaims the captain.

He brings out a talisman of gold with silver inlays, and in the middle a single sapphire set in the engraving of a fish. It's bizarre and fantastic, and right up Eric's alley. All he wants to do is reach out and touch it. Like it's calling him. As though it's whispering to him.

"I got this in Bora Bora years ago. It's said to have been given to their ruler a thousand years before. But that could just be an old superstition. It's said to bring good luck."

Eric stares at the necklace with a strong affection. It was so beautiful. Well taken care of and intricately crafted. The little leaves and twirls of wind were so small yet so detailed it was enough to make Eric swoon. The fish with the jewel inlay looked like some form of piranha. Almost like it had swallowed it and now it glowed eternally from its belly.

"It's beautiful, captain," breaths the awestruck man.

Eric is so busy looking at the talisman he doesn't notice the fond expression on the captain’s face, nor the way he watches him with such contentment. It's the look of a man enthralled by another. One of growing admiration and a thought he hopes he won't regret.

"You can keep it if you'd like."

'Wait,' thinks Eric. 'Did he just...?'

Eric's vision shoots up to the captain's, searching for a lie.

"Wh- wha-?" He can't even say the word he's so shellshocked.

Surprisingly nervous, the captain scratches his neck. 

"Keep it. For good luck."

Beyond shocked, Eric doesn't know what to say. Should he accept? He certainly couldn't _decline_.

"Th- thank you," Eric says shakily.

Not breaking eye contact, the captain nods once in approval. Acting like nothing had happened, the captain gazes lazily at his maps, but he's much more nervous than he seems.

"Would ye like to go treasure hunting with me one day, lad?"

This man already had a way of whipping him back and forth. For a moment Eric just stares at him, a conundrum he can't solve. Eric has to admit he's never even considered something so insane. Now that he’s met a true pirate for the first time in his life, Eric can't help it.

"I would- I'd love to. Would- would you really take me with you?"

The captain nods in growing excitement.

"Of course."

Thoughts of hoisting the anchor, riding through storms, seeing far off lands, digging for treasure… It all seems too amazing to be true. He's always wanted an adventure, but he hasn't been up to it since-

Sadness flows cold through his veins when he realizes it's a complete pipe dream.

"Oh, I- I can't go with you."

This earns him a massive frown from the captain. His puppy dog eyes look so disappointed. Eric kicks himself. 

"Why not?"

Eric leans down and taps his leg, the sound of something hard instead of flesh echoing through the hallway. For the life of him, the other man looks angry. Eric is about to backtrack, but the captain puts up a hand, rage cooling. For a moment the captain contemplates, then lifts the talisman over Eric's head and gingerly puts it around his neck. His fingers mistakenly brush the nape of Eric's neck, making him shiver. The fingers linger there as sincere eyes pierce his own.

"Don't ever let anyone tell ye you can't do something. Not even yerself. Alright?"

The captain isn't about to look away until he's agreed with. Eric nods, a feeling striking him that the captain’s told himself this very speech before. It breaks his heart knowing this strong man has likely had the same thoughts of weakness he's endured.

"Good. Take this as a promise, then. One day, when yer ready, I'll take ye on an adventure. You'll get to find yer own treasure. And you'll have the confidence to do it. I'll make sure of it."

Eric stares up with wide, innocent eyes and can't help the thought that lackadaisically falls to his lips, not to be spoken but so damn close. They were thoughts of cold nights snuggled up together, hot nights of gripping bedsheets and trying not to break the bed. And underneath it all, holding the thoughts like a basin about to overflow, was that sickeningly romantic ache that he might have already found a gold mine in this man.

Leaving Eric awestruck and starry-eyed, the captain turns unassumingly toward a big oaken chest. The old thing opens with a metallic creak. Eric spots some fabric, likely clothing. His hazy thoughts come to a close for now. The captain takes out some clothes and hands them to Eric. 

"Do ye mind putting these away in the chest of drawers?"

Eric assumes that means the dresser. So, he organizes them as the captain hands them over. It’s something Eric has a feeling the captain wasn't normally good at. It seemed like a good bet based on all his treasure being haphazardly strewn about the room. He had an inkling that the captain had come to his quarters, emptied his arms of the jewels on his bed in one go like a human dump truck. After sleeping they'd ended up absolutely everywhere. Or that's the picture Eric liked to have in his mind, anyway. It was endearing to envision.

His mind starts to wander as he continues to put the captain's things away. Eric can't help it if he starts to envision what the bed would feel like with the two of them tucked under the covers, gold and jewels strewn about their naked skin as they pant in ecstasy. He wasn't aware that was a fantasy he had until then, but he was quickly growing fond of it.

Shaking his head, Eric pushes the unwanted thoughts away. He couldn't keep doing this. It wasn't healthy. He had to live with this man and drooling over thoughts of them together would just make everything all the more awkward. So, Eric goes quickly back to work, dirty thoughts pushed aside.

In a few minutes all his clothes, scarves, eye patches, jewelry, and other accessories were all tucked away in the drawers, or carefully organized on the dresser top. That just left the treasure. Sadly, Eric had a nagging feeling that wasn't going anywhere.

Eric looked around the room and couldn't see anything else to put away. The captain really didn't have much else.

The man was currently putting up a nail above his bed. Eric watched him work, trying not to admire the ease to which he did every task and didn't fail.

When the captain lifts the picture Eric's mood falls flat. It was a painting of a man, a woman, and a small boy who was probably five or six. He was a fairly lanky kid with dark hair and a semi-toothless grin. The woman was a brunette with strikingly sharp features but kind eyes. The man looked very similar to the captain. He had a hefty beard and a strong build, wearing an eyepatch and old military uniform. The picture looked aged. Possibly a couple hundred years old.

"Who are they?" Eric dares to ask, not hiding his jealousy as well as he wishes.

"That's me mum and dad and me."

Eric balks, eyes wide. How was that even possible? It looked so very old.

"What- what year were you born?" demands Eric before he can think, flabbergasted. Then he realizes how rude he sounded and backtracks impressively quickly. "If- if you don't mind me asking."

Unfazed, the captain puts a finger to his chin and contemplates that. Then he chuckles it off.

"Ye know, I'm not actually sure. Can't remember. But it was a long time ago."

Eric gets a shiver through every ion in his body. It was almost like when you watch a ghost story on TV, and afterwards you keep swearing you see something move in the corner of your eye. It felt like that. But worse. Almost hypothermic.

He knows the captain is lying.

With a sense that he wasn't getting any more answers, Eric decided now was a good time to drop it. Instead he inspects the picture more closely. The man has a pocket watch, the same one the captain has. It must be very important to him. And the young boy - he never would have imagined that was the captain. Only the eyes gave him away. The innocence of youth was long gone in the man now, but the spark of imagination still lingered strong. With age he definitely got his father's figure. Eric wonders if he got his mother’s personality.

"Are they- are they still alive?" Eric chokes out, afraid of knowing the answer but having a sinking feeling he already predicted the answer.

"No. Haven't been for a long time. Me dad died on the seas in the war," starts the captain, not specifying which war; "and Mum died giving birth to me little sister."

A pained noise escapes Eric and the captain turns sharply. When he sees the young man sniffling, the captain's face quickly spins from painfully nostalgic to understanding. He walks over and envelopes Eric in a warm, comforting hug.

"I- I'm sorry. I should be comforting _you_ ," apologizes Eric, wiping his face with his cardigan sleeve.

The captain slowly shakes his head.

"Don't worry about that, lad. Like I said, ‘twas a long time ago. That's why I keep the picture. To remember. Otherwise I'm afraid I'll forget them."

Eric sniffles into the surprisingly soft shirt, hoping he didn't make him wet with tears.

"Is your sister okay?" asks Eric, leaning back to regretfully see his reaction.

The captain’s eyes glaze over for a second before returning to Eric's. There's something buried there, deep inside. It’s cold and hard to swallow. Eric feels now's a good time to drop the subject. He knows that look. It only means one thing.

"N- nevermind. Do you- would you like any more help?"

Suddenly very distant, the captain let's go of the younger man and shakes his head. His expression becomes gruff and unreadable. Eric hates it.

"Everything's put away. Thank you, laddie. I owe ye."

Eric smiles sweetly, though the sudden distance between them gives him worry.

"Don't mention it. That's what friends are-"

Horrified, Eric stops himself before finishing that dangerous sentence. What if the captain was angry at him? What if he didn't want to be friends anymore?

The captain must have easily put two and two together. The hesitant smile Eric receives lights him up back up.

"Aye. ‘Tis what friends are for."

Eric gives a sigh of relief, hand carding through his hair. He's a little sweaty and very tired from everything that's been happening lately. First the explorer ego came barging in, then they had to coerce the prisoner, and now the pirate threw himself headfirst into Eric's life and whirlwinded him away. Eric was beginning to think they should all star in a terrible movie. He's just glad the captain still wants to be friends. Eric's mind skips a beat at the word. Nervous fingers twiddle while he watches the man in awe. It finally settles in his mind. Friend. He has a friend.

Eric is elated. It's been a long time since he's had a friend. Since third grade and Jimmy fell down that ravine. Jimmy didn't come to school the next day. Or ever again for that matter. Eric stopped really having fiends after that. But now he was friends with a real-life pirate. Somehow Eric isn't surprised. His life is just that wacky.

The captain smiles at him, presumably grateful that Eric's feeling better and no longer feeling he has to put on a gruff mask to protect himself.

"Whattaya say we go shoot some billiards? I saw a table in the basement. Could be fun."

"That sounds nice," agrees Eric.

The captain grabs some things, shoves them in his pockets, and locks his door before heading downstairs. Eric tags along, happy to be an eager little puppy at his side.

When they arrive downstairs the Google’s are sitting talking to Yancy and Illinois. Blue is nowhere to be seen. The two other new egos watch the men as they walk in. They make Eric a little nervous. New people always do.

Eric doesn't like the way Yancy is eyeing the captain. He looks him up and down a little _too_ much and Eric's not sure if he wants to know why.

The captain tips his hat and says, "Gentlemen."

Illinois does the same back, standing and extending a hand.

"You're the captain, I presume?" the explorer asks. "My name is Illinois. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The captain takes on a new air of leadership. Eric realizes it's the same strong stance that made him run away with his tail tucked between his legs the night before. So much had changed since then it almost seemed a life ago.

The captain shakes the offered hand, smiling politely.

"Likewise. Nice to meet ye, son."

"I'd love to talk to you about your travels sometime. I've had a few myself," Illinois says rather egotistically, but not in a bad way. He just radiated a sense of confidence. It always made Eric jealous.

Yancy gives his new friend Illinois a look, then goes to get up as well, but he's not nearly as excitable. 

"You two shootin' a game a pool?" Yancy interjects, not bothering to introduce himself. The former prisoner chews on a toothpick, faking disinterest in everything around him.

"Aye," the captain says, chest puffing instinctively. His face becomes stone cold as he puts hands on his hips, attempting to make the prisoner uncomfortable. Instead Yancy stares defiantly up at the large man.

Illinois and Eric exchange a nervous look. This couldn't be good.

"Mind if I join youse? I'm pretty good. Used ta shoot pool in Juvie."

The captain smirks angrily at him, eyes turning murky.

"Well, so am I, laddie."

Hot, jealous anger flares up inside Eric. The flames lick at his temples, making his face burn. Yancy already made him nervous, and now he was pissing him off. They were having a nice day together, just the two of them in their own little growing bubble. The former prisoner broke right in and popped it. Bastard.

Illinois surveys the usually nervous ego before giving him a knowing look. Eric doesn’t notice. He’s staring daggers into Yancy’s back.

"Yancy, maybe you'd better let these two be. We can play later."

Yancy puts up a hand, not being used to getting directions, only handing them out. Illinois looks pissed but backs down. It's not his battle to fight.

The captain's head shakes slowly, refusing to back down from a competition. 

"’Tis alright. The bet's already been placed."

The captain stands powerfully over Yancy, making the smaller man gulp.

"You'd best prepare yerself," his bellowing voice growls.

Despite himself, Yancy grins.

"Oh, I will, Cap'n. I will. But you better too. I won't go easy on youse."

The two are having a dick measuring contest while Eric and Illinois stand there becoming more and more uncomfortable. He doesn't like the heat in their bickering. And he hates to admit it has him flamingly jealous.

"Who wants ta break?" asks Yancy.

The captain finally looks at Eric, apologies written all over his face. It shocks Eric how quickly his expression changes whenever he looks at him. It makes his stomach flip.

"Do ye mind if I school this kid? Then I promise we'll play a real gentleman’s game, just the two 'f us."

Although bummed out, Eric nods, not having much of a choice. The captain gives him a little smile. Eric has a feeling it means, "Let me teach this punk a lesson to save my honor, then I'm all yours." Or that could just be Eric fantasizing again.

The captain let's Yancy break, balls flying everywhere. One striped one rolls into a pocket, sinking out of sight. The captain calls that Yancy is now stripes. The other man grins, chest puffing with pride.

The game goes on for some time, the Google’s getting up to watch the game. It's honestly a little too much of a testosterone party for Eric. It reminds him of old days with his brother's. His father always tried to make him "act more like a man" by doing these sorts of things. It always just made Eric feel like a poser.

But he stays regardless and quietly cheers the captain on. Illinois is rooting for Yancy, albeit with not much enthusiasm, while the Google’s are giving advice on trajectory and form which both men are blatantly ignoring.

It doesn't take long before the captain is wiping the floor with Yancy's mortified face, The captain is an excellent billiard player. Impressively, he sinks several balls in one hit with a quiet grace.

In the dim light, in the musky old room, the captain looks striking. Eric can't help being in awe. Watching those strong arms, mind cool and calculated as he takes another shot captivates him.

The captain walks around the billiard table, suddenly standing very close to Eric. The man gulps, not wanting to move. Not daring to. With an endearing smile, the captain speaks low to him. It gives Eric shivers.

"Can ye move a bit to the left, laddie?"

Embarrassed, Eric backs away, standing beside Illinois instead. He's glad the room is so darkly lit because his face is fire red. His lanky arms wrap around himself. Beside him Illinois tries not to giggle at him. That only makes his blush darken.

The captain glances back to the billiard balls, judging his next move. He chews on his lip, distracting Eric. He sinks his last solid ball into a pocket, a noise of triumph escaping his lips. A little cocky, the captain smirks at Yancy, pleased with himself.

The sneer on Yancy's face gives them both a sick sort of satisfaction.

It's not long before Yancy is fidgeting angrily with his shirt sleeve, pulling out a cigarette pack and smacking the container. He’s embarrassed that he's gotten his ass handed to him. He lights it up, smoke billowing throughout the room.

When the game is officially over and the captain sinks the eight ball into a pocket, Eric couldn't be prouder. He has won with seemingly little effort and Yancy looks entirely pissed. Not being a sore loser, Yancy shakes hands and takes the loss regardless.

"Good game, Cap'n. I'll ask ya to a rematch later."

Yancy looks at Eric and nods once in solidarity then goes upstairs, tail between his legs.

"It was nice to meet you, Captain,” Illinois pronounces. 

“Nice ta meet ye, too,” the captain declares with a small salute.

“Take care, Eric,” says Illinois who gives a wave then follows Yancy upstairs.

“Y- you too!” Eric calls after him, offhandedly thinking he should talk to the other ego more.

The Google’s go back to their own conversation at a table several feet away, no longer interested in the humans.

The captain tips his hat and says, "Sorry ta keep ye waiting."

Eric shrugs like it's no big deal. And it really shouldn't be. But he can't help it. He knows both men are quite attractive and the way they bickered seemed an awful lot like sexual tension. It's scaring Eric to think that Yancy could steal the captain’s interest away. However, he was glad to know that the captain kept his promise. And he had the man to himself for a while longer.

"Have ye played before?"

Eric nods without much confidence.

"But I'm… I'm not very good," the nervous man apologizes.

The captain beams, a mischievous smile overtaking his face.

"Then I'll teach ye. Here."

The captain hands him a cue stick and motions for him to come over. The balls have already been formed into a triangle ready to be broken. 

"Alright, kid, show me what ye got."

Suddenly very nervous, his arms shake. He lines up the stick as best as he can, very unsure of himself. Eric leans against the billiard table and pulls back, ready to take a shot. The captain watches him with amused interest, eyeing his form.

"Here," the captain says, suddenly pressed up against Eric's back. Eric gasps, body reacting despite himself. His mouth goes dry, a shiver raking down his entire spine. He'd been bent over and suddenly the captain was _very_ much pressed against his ass.

Not knowing what else to do, Eric stops breathing. It might not be the best decision.

Regretting his actions, the captain backs off.

"Sorry, should've warned ye. Is it okay if I show ye how it's done?"

Eric nods and licks his lips, suddenly very nervous. His prosthetic feet shake against the carpet. This time the captain slowly presses up against Eric's back and takes both sweaty hands in his. Shivers rack Eric’s frame. His mouth goes dry. Hips are pressed close against his back. The captain is so god damn close it's toxic.

Eric gulps, ashamed at how sweaty his palms are.

The captain must realize the position they're in. His entire body is engulfing Eric, pressing him against the billiard table with nowhere to go. Not that he wants to escape. Quite the contrary. The pinned man can't help but get ideas. A vision of them like this, Eric hoisted up on the pool table, wrapped around the captain as they pant and moan. It invades Eric's senses. He can almost hear the legs creaking as the billiard table can hardly handle his weight, the captain fucking him senseless, panting his name in ecstasy.

Not knowing what the other man was fantasizing about, the captain moves his arms to a better position and surrounds Eric even more. It drives Eric wild. His eyelids stutter closed, sharp breaths ragged. His entire weight leans on the table, body surging with unadulterated want.

The captain _has_ to realize what he's doing to him. This was pure torture. Just being this close was electric. If they ever truly touched, if they ever kissed or made love, Eric might literally explode.

Apparently unfazed by the closeness, or unaware of the implications, the captain speaks. As though Eric will be able to formulate a single thought that doesn't involve the captain's naked body. 

"Okay, now yer gonna push yer arms forward, like this."

The captain moves their arms together, jolting them both forward. Eric feels the captain’s hips smack against his back. Now Eric has to forcefully stop himself from thinking about what exactly is pressed against him. All he knows is his mind will definitely never be on billiards again.

"Alright, now it's yer turn."

The captain pulls away, making Eric suddenly feel very cold and a little dizzy. After a moment to shake himself off, Eric does as the captain instructs. Or, what he thinks he instructed. He's not entirely sure he's having thoughts anymore.

Wind blowing through his mind, Eric lines up the shot and jolts the stick forward like he showed him. It's a beautiful break. The sound of loud tapping as balls ting against each other fills the room. Eric beams, shocked at himself. He can't believe it. He actually made a good shot and he didn't scratch on the very first try. That was a new record.

The captain howls encouragement.

"Beautiful shot, m’ boy!"

He's suddenly right at his side. Eric has a dazed look, not quite processing that something in his life has gone right for once. The captain pats him on the back and let's his hand linger. Eric makes a soft sigh. It pulls him back to reality and he jams the door to his libido shut as hard as he can. The hand lingers a second more before the captain takes his own shot. Impressively he sinks two plain balls in one go.

"Solids, you've got stripes."

Eric’s mouth hangs slightly open. He nervously plays with the hem of his sweater, then licks his lips. The captain watches his mouth, which makes Eric uncomfortable in the most exciting way.

Clearing his throat, the captain looks away.

"Don't worry, ye can still catch up. I'll go easy on ye. Here, let me help ye."

The captain comes back up behind Eric. The smaller man could honestly do this all day. Simply feeling the strong man pressed up against him set off wonderful endorphins. Eric felt like he was swimming in his own brain. The touch-starved man couldn't be happier. He might have to mess up some shots just to have the captain press up against him like this again.

The captain helps him line up one of the balls with a pocket then leans down to whisper into his ear.

"Alright, I'll help guide ye in."

His heart jolts into his throat and stays lodged there. Eric’s flushing furiously, unable to gulp his heart back to where it belongs. The cheeky bastard chuckles behind him, pleased with himself.

Eric can't help but imagine something drastically different involving a lot less clothing. It doesn't help that his voice was tickling Eric's ear and sending shivers down his arms. The audacity he has astounds Eric. He's sure he's just teasing to get a reaction out of him and, oh, is he getting one. Eric's extremely glad the billiard table hides everything from the waist down.

"Are ye ready?" the older man asks in a husky voice he shouldn't be allowed to use.

Eric gulps, then nods instead, not trusting himself to speak just then. He's definitely ready for _something_.

The captain helps him line up the shot and take a practice swing. The game continues like that, the captain coming up behind him and Eric getting flustered with his mind more and more in the gutter.

When the last ball is sank, both men are a little saddened that the game is over. He’s not even sure which one of them won, but figures it wasn’t him. Not that he cares in the slightest. His body yearns for the captain. Eric wishes he’d have a good excuse to be close to him again. Since that's very dangerous territory and they _have_ only known each other a short while, Eric decides he should push those thoughts far, far away. This was a one-time thing. He couldn't get involved with anyone. It would put them in grave danger. Eric knows that. He was cursed. Always had been.

Boiling with pain and desire, Eric glances longingly at the captain as he puts up the cues. Fidgety fingers grip the green fabric of the billiard table. If he could have him, Eric felt like he might finally be happy. But he can't, so friendship is what he'll have to settle for.

The captain turns around with a big grin, obviously excited to have played one of his favorite games. And Eric knows. He just knows. By the fluttering in his heart and the way the captain makes his body quiver, it will never be enough. He's infatuated. 

The realization breaks his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy! If you want to PM me or anything, you can find me @ wet-and-hysterical on Tumblr.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be mentions of death and gore in this one, and I go into quite a lot of detail, so be warned.

After their game of billiards, the captain asks if Eric's hungry, as though nothing has changed. As though Eric hadn't fallen for him in the short time they've know each other. As though one smile from the man didn't set his soul afire, and one touch burst his body into flames of desire.

Sighing internally, Eric tries to give back a smile in return. It doesn't work. His lips contort into an expression that looks much more like pain.

What the hell, he was getting hungry anyway. Since he couldn't very well blabber his feelings to the captain, they might as well just eat. There was no use pining over someone he could never have. The captain couldn't possibly feel that way about him. Yancy had a better chance. He was strong, athletic, talented, and everyone really loved him for some reason. So, he nods with what courage he has and says: "A little."

Unaware of his internal conflict, the captain smiles a bit wider. Eric hates himself for the way it makes his heart sputter. It would never happen. No one could ever fall for him. Eric knew he was unlovable.

"Are ye in the mood for flapjacks? I make a mean one."

"I didn't know you could cook," Eric admits, mildly shocked.

"I'm a man o' many talents."

The captain winks, making Eric want to faint. It was a nice thought. If he passed out then he might be out of this quiet, roiling, aching misery. Sadly, he has no such luck. Mouth too dry to speak and mind woozy with the inuendo, he simply gulps. The captain makes a happy noise and starts to walk upstairs. Eric follows behind so the other can't see his tinged face. His body droops downward as he thinks about how impossible it will be to get this man out of his head, let alone out of his heart.

They eventually end up in the kitchen, which is gladly deserted. With a happy air the captain gets to work finding ingredients and setting them on the counter. Of course, he has no idea where anything is, but he does his best. Every cupboard door and drawer is opened while hunting for supplies.

Eric wishes he could have that level of confidence. It took him months to start scouring through their kitchen, afraid that the other egos would judge him. Now he was fairly familiarized with everything. Wanting to help, Eric finds what he can, ignoring the stab wound through his chest. It feels like a cutlass.

Once they have everything out the captain grabs a mixing bowl and gets to work. The flour goes flying as he whips it a little too hard. Eric smiles at the child-like way he does certain things. How could a man his age be so damn messy? Eric can't help it. His admiration swells as his mind starts to hush. It's easy with the captain to forget about everything else for a little while. Finally, he starts to relax just as the captain accidentally flings batter everywhere. Eric giggles when some hits his nose.

"Sorry," apologizes the captain sheepishly, but then he must see what it looks like and cheekily adds; "I'm usually a better aim."

Eric doesn't understand what he means at first. Was he _trying_ to hit him? He frowns sadly, wondering why his new friend would find such a thing funny.

Smirking, the captain takes his finger, runs it over the whitish batter, and shows it to him with a wink. Eric suddenly understands the suggestion. The easily embarrassed man turns scarlet.

Eyes going low, the captain puts the batter-covered finger into his mouth, and pulls it out with a pop, never once breaking eye contact.

"Oh," Eric accidentally says aloud, entirely distracted by the other man’s lips.

Mortified, Eric breaks eye contact. His pants are much too constricted all of a sudden. Thank God he's wearing jeans.

He _needs_ to stop doing this. Eric's mind is stuck thinking about a much different circumstance: one too similar to the one involving a lot of lube and a billiard table.

The flirty captain beams, pleased that he's embarrassed them both, among other things.

Once the batter is done, he cranks up the heat and throws a healthy - well, unhealthy- dollop of butter into the pan. Eric watches the butter sizzle and melt as it fills the room with a wonderful, savory aroma. The captain carefully scoops the batter into a big pancake then grabs a flipper and waits. The pancake sizzles. The sound brings him back to the old days of his dad making breakfast for all the boys. It's a melancholy memory he hates to love.

Unaware of the change in his new friends’ demeanor, the elated captain turns to Eric.

"Whattaya like on yer flapjacks?"

Eric contemplates that like it's a life or death situation. Everything for Eric felt that dire.

"Just syrup, I think. Why? Should- should I use something else?"

A soft admiration spreads across the captain's entire face. Eric’s body relaxes as calming eyes almost sparkle. He looks at Eric like he’s a cute little puppy. The panic mostly melts away, leaving only confusion.

"Whatever ye like is what ye like. Nothing wrong with that."

"What do you like, Captain?" Eric says with a soft smile.

He flips the pancake while chewing thoughtfully on his lip. Eric watches him with intense concentration.

"I sprinkle a little sugar on top meself. We usually didn't have syrup on the ship. Too sticky. Hard to clean. So I stopped stocking it."

Eric nods. That makes sense, he guesses.

The first pancake is taken out of the pan and more butter goes in along with a scoop of batter. Eric's attention turns from the captain to the sizzling pancake and back again. Surprisingly, the captain looked in his element. He could be wearing normal twenty-first century attire and an apron and in the kitchen he honestly wouldn't look that much different. 

"D- did you have a cook on your ship?"

"Aye, we did. Sometimes I'd let him have a break and I'd whip up grub for the crew."

"Do you like to cook?"

Something stutters in the captain’s mind. He halts his movements like a glitch before regaining composure. His hand grips the flipper until it almost bends in his grasp. If it wasn’t plastic, Eric’s sure it would.

"I do," his strained voice admits. "More than anything."

Why was his voice so soft and forlorn? Eric hasn't known him for long, but it seems so uncharacteristic. Why was he so adamant about admitting to something so normal? Eric narrows his eyes. His legs shift as he wonders what's suddenly switched in that brain of his. For a moment Eric contemplates if he should ask again. He's usually not one to attempt making people uncomfortable, but the captain was hiding something, and Eric wants him to know it was okay.

"You know you can tell me if- if something's bothering you. I won't judge. I- I promise."

All the captain does is stare disappointingly at the pancake. A windy sigh escapes his lips as his eyes turn downcast. His usually confident body becomes tense, as though he’s waiting to be berated. Eric hates it.

"Me dad didn't like me cooking. Said my place was with the men, not in the kitchen with the women folk. He used to..."

The captain does a switch of his hand, body twitching as he makes a whipping motion. It's a memory he never wanted to recall. Eric really wishes he hadn't brought it up.

Cold, grey rain falls upon Eric's mood. He thinks of the picture of the young boy in the captain’s room. How he was all sweet smiles and potential. And that bastard of a father hulking over him beat his son simply because he had an interest in something he considered feminine. Eric fumes. If the man weren't already dead then he'd want to kill the prick himself.

"That's despicable," Eric growls, hands balling into fists.

The captain watches his new friend get angry for him. His bushy eyebrows raise, obviously amused that the puppy beside him has suddenly morphed into an ankle biter. With a tense smile, he puts a hand on Eric's upper arm and squeezes gently.

"Thank you, lad, but it's alright. T'was a long time ago."

"But if you still remember it, the- then it must be important," Eric urges, not wanting the man to disregard his own feelings. 

The captain blinks slowly, contemplating the insight.

"Well, ye got me there."

The captain must have an internal timer because he flips a pancake onto the plate then pours another. Eric watches the precision and remembers back to this morning.

'Was that really only this morning?'

Eric can't believe it. So much had happened since then.

He recalls how the captain asked if he wanted him to cook up anything. The man was so eager to please, and desperately wanted an excuse to cook. A flower blossoms in his chest. He knows he’s giving the captain heart eyes, but he just can't help it. Only one day in and he has such an infatuation for the man. Watching the domestic scene before him certainly doesn't help. Less than twenty-four hours prior Eric had taken one look at the man and ran. He’d judged him when he’d just claimed he never did that to people. The thought makes him angry with himself. An internal smack to the head makes Eric feel a little better. He shouldn't have been so afraid of Captain Magnum. The man truly was a gentle giant. As long as you respected him, anyway. Otherwise he was surely a force to be reckoned with. Eric never wanted to get on his bad side.

When Eric comes back to reality the pancakes are all stacked neatly on a plate. The last one is just being placed on top.

The captain takes the morsels to a table, the glass plate hitting the wood with a clink. Eric follows with silverware, plates, and cups. He goes to the fridge to get milk and the captain starts to follow. Eric puts up a hand.

"I- I'll get it. Make yourself comfy."

The captain relaxes into a chair with an appreciative sigh.

"Thank you."

"No, thank _you_. They smell delicious."

The aroma was making his mouth water. There was just something about the smell of pancakes that released serotonin.

Eric comes back with milk, syrup, and sugar. He pours their glasses then puts the milk away before sitting down across from the captain. The older man is waiting patiently for him. Once Eric pulls in a seat, the captain puts a couple pancakes on his plate then a few for himself. Eric smiles at the man, pleased that he’s being a gentleman. The captain sprinkles sugar onto his pancakes then watches in amusement as Eric pours a generous amount of syrup on his own. The other man lifts his glass of milk in waiting. An error signal appears above Eric’s head.

"A toast," the captain explains simply.

“Oh,” an embarrassed Eric says as he scrambles for his own glass.

"To us," says the captain, curious eyes staring right through Eric.

There's something there. In the sultry way he spoke, the softness in his eyes, and the way he looked at Eric like he'd known him for years. Eric has no idea what's going on. It was like he was drinking him up. For just a moment, Eric wonders if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. As if the man across the table was falling for him too. 

"To- to us," he repeats, voice quiet.

The two men tink their glasses together then take a sip. Eric looks down at his pancake and cuts off a bite. It's slathered in syrup before being put inside his mouth. Before he can engulf the first bite he notices the captain staring at him. It gives Eric pause. What was wrong? Did he do something? Was he being rude?

A million self-hating thoughts run their course in those few seconds before the captain waves for him to go ahead. Eric's a little nervous now.

Tentatively, he takes a bite. Eric's hit with a surprising amount of flavor. The young man had no idea a pancake could taste this good. It was buttery and sweet and everything a pancake should be.

'What did he put in it?'

Eric had a very slight intrusive thought that he could possibly be drugged. He’s mortified over the idea when the captain speaks. 

"So, whattya think?"

Eric gapes and the captain doesn't know how to take that reaction.

"Lad?"

"They're amazing," he praises, gulping loudly. "How did - how did you do this?"

Confused, the captain tilts his head.

"Do what?"

"How did you make them taste so good? I think they're one of the best pancakes I've had."

The captain beams like a lighthouse on a clear summer’s night. Eric wants to crash into the shore.

"Eh, you're just sayin’ that."

He looks away embarrassed. It's beyond endearing. Emotions backflip inside Eric’s stomach. He’s determined to make the man realize he has talent.

"No, I mean it. Really. You should be proud of yourself."

The captain plays with a napkin in his hands and looks away.

"Thank you," he says, voice the quietest he's heard him be.

The praise must have meant the world to him, because when he looks back into his eyes, Eric’s heart beats unabashed against his skull. And Eric's afraid to think it, afraid to jinx it, but he could swear the captain has heart-eyes too.

Xxoxx

The men enjoyed their lunch in peaceful semi-silence. Every once in a while, Eric would make a pleased noise and the captain would straighten up in his chair. Eric wasn't trying to, but he couldn't help but hope he was giving the captain ideas.

When they were done Eric thanked him again and went to clean off their dishes. Thoughts running around his own head, he doesn't hear the other ego come up behind him. A careful finger runs down the exposed skin of his arm; enticing, curious. Eric gasps, body jumping, sponge in hand. Water shoots up onto the countertop and splashes all over Eric's sweater.

"Shit," Eric curses lightly to himself, but the captain hears him anyway.

"Sorry, wasn't meanin' to scare ye."

"That's okay," claims Eric while looking sadly down at his sweater. It was soaking wet now and little rainbow-reflecting bubbles clung to the reindeer pattern. With a sigh, Eric pulls it over his head and throws it toward a chair. He misses. It lands on the floor with a “thwack”.

All he's wearing underneath is a wife beater. Standing in just his undershirt there's a lot more skin exposed than a few seconds prior. He's suddenly aware the captain is staring at his arms, then his gaze falls to his chest. Eric looks down and can see his nipples. They make sudden eye contact as Eric’s head shoots up in fear. The captain raises his eyebrow and tries not to smirk. Eric wants to say it's because he's very cold, but he'd be lying. Eric's showing more skin than he's ready for, and the wanting look the captain seems to give scares the shit out of him.

Panicking, Eric feels very naked. The unconfident man wonders if the captain’s displeased with what he sees. Eric wraps protective arms around himself like he's naked and trying to hide his body. With a nervous energy he scurries off toward his room.

"B- be right back."

The captain watches him with a pout, but he watches him nevertheless. When he returns with a new blue sweater with snowflakes the captain looks a little sad, but doesn't say a word.

Eric finishes the dishes, rinses them off, and sets them up to dry. As he wipes off his hands he looks expectedly at the captain.

"What would you like to do next?"

The captain seems to contemplate that. The silence frightens Eric.

"I- if you wanna do anything at all. We don't- we don't have to."

The captain shakes his head and sends Eric into a panic. The other notices the absolute fear and gives him a sad smile.

"Don't worry lad, I didn't mean it like that. Just me thinkin’."

A hand combs the captain’s beard, then he strokes his unseen chin. Getting an idea, he snaps his fingers.

"We could go down ta the wine cellar and get ye drunk."

Eric checks his phone.

"But, it's two in the afternoon."

"Oh,” the man says, visibly deflating. “Maybe tonight then?"

His hopeful look makes Eric nod before he can think better of the idea. That honestly did sound pleasant. The captain radiates at the thought, the excitement wearing off on Eric.

"It's a date."

Eric tries not to faint at the implication.

Xxoxx

Neither man has a set idea in mind of what to do until evening. They end up going outside and walking around the garden to get fresh air and sunshine. It's honestly quite beautiful. Everything is green and bright. Nature grows all around them. He smells freshly cut grass and it makes him sigh with satisfaction. A lonely little bumble bee buzzes slowly in front of them. The animal lover smiles at the tiny creature. Once it’s out of sight, Eric’s eyes settle on the many plants and flowers all around. He has a sudden realization that he's never actually seen a gardener out here before. But they must have one, right? Regardless, the flowers and grasses are well maintained and have such a pleasant aura, so Eric forgets the thought.

Leaning toward a bright yellow flower, Eric smells deeply, loving the way the petals tickle his nose. The captain watches him with an unreadably soft expression.

They continue on with their walk, sometimes talking about the garden or the weather, how the seasons are changing but because it's California it's not the big difference they're both used to. The captain says he isn't originally from America, but doesn't further explain. Eric grew up in a middle state on the southern border. He doesn't miss the fake, Bible-thumping homophobes at all, but what he does miss are the seasons. He tells the captain about winters spent making snowmen with his brothers and sipping hot cocoa.

"My feet would get so cold while we played they'd go numb." Eric nervously plays with the hem of his sweater. "I miss that. I miss feeling my- my feet. It's like they're always numb now. And I miss my brothers. I- I wish we never would have been in that bus."

The world stops. Then it starts to pulse. Eric's eyes burst. He realizes it too late. He shouldn't have said anything. He's put a question in the others mind that was going to be asked. Eric wasn't ready to answer.

The captain stops his pace for a second. It was inevitable now. The panic was slithering in, choking his neck. Soon his trachea would be snapped in half. Eric can’t breathe.

"Bus?"

Eric starts to fully panic. He takes a small blanket out of his pocket and holds it for dear life. He wobbles like he's about to pass out.

The captain puts a steadying hand on his arm, starting to quietly panic himself.

Eric looks up in horror, as though he was watching through a frosted glass and couldn't get back to him no matter how hard he tried.

"Easy, lad," he shushes like calming down a spooked horse. "Deep breaths. Are you all right?"

Eric nods furiously, obviously lying.

"I- I- I'm fine. Really. I'm fine."

Flashes of screaming, metal crashing and crunching, blood, and legs trapped under wreckage overflow in Eric's mind. The memories drag him down, attempt to drown him. He's replayed that scene over and over for years. It's always the same. Everyone screams. Everyone dies. _Everyone_.

Except him.

He's trapped and screaming. Crying. Begging. Pleading.

He sees his brothers strewn about the bus. Some are thrown out through the windshield or broken windows. One has glass lodged in his chest, horrified eyes white and lifeless, staring right at him. Eric screams his name but can't hear a fucking thing back.

Suddenly there's a voice in the wreckage as smoke billows in the bus. Someone’s yelling his name.

"Eric! Help me!"

His brother Merrick, usually so calm, is several feet away. He's lying on top of a bus seat in a way that shouldn't be possible. His body is twisted and torn. A bone is sticking out of his arm. Everything is tipped to the side. What use to be a bus is bent and broken and crumpled like paper. There's a piece of metal sticking out of Merrick’s skull.

The world isn't right. Death walks all around them, taking his brother's souls away. Just like their mother. Just like his dog. Just slicing away with his scythe like it has any fucking right.

"I'm coming, Merrick!" screams Eric, pulling himself up with his arms. He has to save him. He might be the only brother he has left.

But his body doesn't budge. He's stuck on something. Eric looks behind him, terror squeezing his stomach. He hurls, vomit covering the dirt in front of him. His legs are crushed under a side of the bus, cut almost straight off from metallic shrapnel. The only thing connecting them are bits of flesh and skin.

Merrick says his name again, weak and frail.

Terrified, Eric looks at his elder brother as the life drains from his eyes. Blood coughs up from his lungs as his body takes its last ever breaths.

Eric can't save him.

He's gone.

Eric realizes his brother's last words will forever be his own forsaken name.

Desperate, he screams all their names, hoping and praying for a response.

One never comes.

There's so much carnage. His heart is pumping more and more blood, most of it soaking his jeans and the ground where his legs are severed.

There's never an answer. Just the terrible sound of silence.

He's lost so much blood.

Then he blacks out.

A week later he wakes up in a hospital bed and can't feel his legs.

The screaming doesn't stop in his head for years.

In the here and now, Eric realizes tears flow from his eyes like waterfalls and he’s barely breathing he’s hyperventilating so horribly.

"Are you alright?" asks the captain, scared out of his mind. Eric can't blame him.

Eric throws his head up toward the impossibly bright sun. It loves to mock him. To send sunny, golden rays down when it knows it has no fucking right. His sobs turn into a humorless laughter as hands clench into fists.

"Jesus Christ..." the captain breathes.

Taking a step back for his own safety, the captain watches as the man literally vibrates. It's hard to watch. Eric's having a mental breakdown in the middle of a place so beautiful and full of life and all he can think is:

'These flowers, these plants, they'll die someday too. Everything will. And I'll be forced to watch.’

Eric starts shaking his head. The problem is he doesn't _stop_ shaking his head. It's like if he doesn't keep it up the world will collapse around them.

The captain leans down like an adult to a child. His hands grip his shoulders as a life vest keeping him afloat. He's not going to let Eric drown.

"Yer alright. I've got ye. What's wrong? Ye can tell me."

The captain repeats Eric's own words. That brings him back to reality a bit. But it's not enough. The scared man shivers though the day is warm and clear. He knows he can technically tell him, but he can barely even confess it happened to himself. Not without losing all of his sanity, which is already always dangling by a thread.

Eric stands there. Just stands there. Not speaking. Not moving except to shiver. The sun shines upon him, yet he's drenched in shadow. He wants to stop breathing. Wants to stop existing. He wants to tell the captain he wishes to go back to his room. Eric goes to speak when he's suddenly being pulled into a bear hug. The captain rubs his back with his thumb. Fingers card through his hair as he holds him tight. It's so gentle, so sweet. Eric hiccups out a sob. 

"It's alright, Eric. Ye don't have to tell me. Yer going to be alright. I have ye."

Eric melts into him like the butter in their frying pan. He wraps his arms around his waist and just let's go. Sobs wrack through his small frame. Tears blot onto the captain’s shirt, but the taller man doesn't mind. Eric grips the fabric as though it's his only lifeline. He lets himself lose control. Allows himself to think of his brothers lying there dead. Not answering his desperate pleas. Limbs twisted. Eyes turning white. Blood everywhere. The smell of iron makes him choke. He sees and feels and hears everything all over again.

Lips press to his forehead and the memories fade just like when he blacked out. Now he's standing there entirely aware that his feet and lower legs are decomposing somewhere in a trash heap miles and miles away. It's a thought that could keep you up at night. And it often does.

Slowly, cautiously, Eric starts to calm down. He releases the death grip and simply hugs the captain back instead.

Relieved, the captain let's out a shaky breath, his cheek pressing to Eric's head. Realization hits him with a blow and it hurts. The captain was scared.

'He’s worried about me.'

It makes Eric feel worthless. And so damn weak. But he sure as hell was not about to let go. He couldn't. Not yet. He can't make eye contact with the man. Not until he composes himself. So, the two stand there for minutes. Neither is sure exactly how long, but the sun moves a little in the sky above.

Nature continues around them. Birds plant themselves a few feet away, heads cocking at the odd duo. A lone butterfly flutters above them. All around the world continues, but in their little bubble, time's watch has stopped.

A looming figure watches them from a second story window. Neither notice.

When Eric finally feels strong enough to face a little reality, he pulls away and sniffles. His arm rubs at his nose with a sweater sleeve. The captain gives him a pained yet hopeful smile, waiting.

Wheezing in a forceful breath, Eric attempts a smile back. It's strained and shattered, but it's there. He's exhausted.

"How are ye doing, lad?"

"Better. Thank you."

As though he can't believe this universe is real, Eric cautiously glances around. Everything had felt so real. The world of memories was a powerful place. The shadows start to slink back into their holes, seething and hissing at the captain for taking them from Eric. The man is so damn grateful. The world starts losing its grey and color pops back into its rightful place.

The captain looks cautiously optimistic that Eric is actually doing better. Eric smiles, a true smile this time. The pain is still there, but not at the forefront demanding all his attention.

"Thank you. Honestly, thank you. I- I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

The captain’s eyes crinkle as he smiles painfully.

"No problem. I'll be here whenever ye need me. And that's a promise."

Usually Eric is more cautious of everyone, yet when the captain says he'll do something, Eric tends to feel like he actually stands by his word. With him, anyway.

"Would ye like to go back to the house?" suggests the captain.

Very tired and emotionally drained, Eric nods. The captain snakes his arm through Eric's and ambles them through the grass and hedges. They walk the old-fashioned way back to the ominous manor in bittersweet silence.

They're being watched with scrutiny. Eyes narrow at the scene below. Eric doesn't see the figure watching them, but he can sense something. He shivers once, wondering why he feels so cold. 

The men get back inside and the captain escorts Eric back to his room. He's surprised to see he has a door again. His assumption is Google was tired of seeing a gaping hole and splintered wood every time he walked past.

"Would you still like to meet up later?" Eric asks, unsure of what he wants the answer to be.

"That's up to _you_ , lad."

Eric doesn't like that plans are upon his back. The captain senses his hesitation and saves him the trouble.

"I'll come by, say…" he checks his pocket watch; "nine-thirty. If yer not feelin' up to it, don't worry. Sound good?"

So damn tired, Eric nods. The captain gives him a smile while dropping the pocket watch back into its rightful place. For a second the captain stands there, contemplative. He chews at his lip nervously. Eric blinks, not sure what to do or ask. A clear of the throat later and the captain turns to leave.

"Well, I'll see ye tonight. If ye need anything I'll be in my quarters."

"Thank you."

Eric watches the ego walk down the hallway and disappear out of sight. He closes his door, glad to know Google put his locks back on. He secures himself in and finally has a chance to breathe. He takes off his clothes, all except his boxers, props up his prosthetics, and slips into bed. He grabs the romance book by his bed and decides to read for a bit. He needs to get his mind off things for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the Explicit rating starts coming more into play. Tags will be updated.

After a few minutes of reading Eric's transported into a different universe. A better world than the one the captain dragged him out of earlier. He's happy for the solace and solitude. It's so comfortable being covered and surrounded by soft blankets and fluffy pillows.

He reads for much of the afternoon, occasionally stopping to wonder what everyone else is doing. It's quiet this time of day. Most people are at work or have left for the evening. He continues to read, slipping back between the pages. When he gets to a rather steamy part, Eric has to take a second to compose himself. The two main characters were touching, kissing, about to have passionate sex. Eric gulps as the images press into his mind.

He looks at the cover again. They always had strapping young shirtless men with beautifully sculpted abs and tight pants. He wonders vaguely why they only ever had one type of guy. They never looked like him. But he isn’t exactly complaining.

He studies the model closely, letting himself fantasize a little. The image morphs into a broad, shirtless man with a long beard and a beautiful smile. Eric gulps. This wasn't good. He shakes the thought away but it scurries back in. Eric goes back to reading, hoping it will help; that he'll see the character in his mind. It doesn't work.

Starting to read again, he imagines the man touching the other. Strong hands glide over hot skin. Moist lips press together. A hand glides further down, closer and closer to its desired destination. Eric starts to feel very compromised as he imagines the hand on his own abdomen, tickling his treasure trail and silently asking permission. Eric gulps, imagining looking up at the captain’s eyes, all but begging him to-

Eric stutters back to Earth, almost throwing the book in fear. Breathing hard, he curls into a ball. Eyes dart around, afraid he's been caught. He wasn't expecting to see the captain in his mind’s eye. And he didn't want the main character to be himself.

Yet here he was, half hard and aching for something he could never have. A voice in Eric's head says: 'But you can have it now. Like this.'

Eric licks his lips. He checks his door, making sure no one has blasted it open again. With a glance at his phone he sees it's about seven. He has plenty of time. Eric gets himself comfortable again, lying on his back, legs spread.

He grabs the book and starts to read, getting himself back in the mood. He holds the book with one hand and slowly slides his hand down his chest. It tingles. As he reads he imagines the captain above him, experienced fingers touching him. A hand goes to the main character's cock and Eric bites his lip, doing the same to himself. He's not sure when he stops reading, but at some point the book is completely discarded.

His eyes flutter closed as his hand slowly strokes himself. The captain is above him and it's his strong hand gently touching his cock. Eric moans aloud. He grabs a bottle of lotion from his bedside table, needing lube. The slickness makes his mind change gears. He imagines the captain leaning down, eyes half lidded and begging to suck him off. Eric's hips buck, stroking harder. His other hand comes to play with the tip as he sees the captain’s tongue twirl around the head.

Eric makes a small noise, almost able to feel the wet muscle glide over the most sensitive part of his body. When the captain goes down on him, almost to the hilt, Eric's hips stutter up. He bites his lip harder as the tempo increases. He can almost feel the captain’s wet, skillful mouth working him closer and closer to the edge.

Eric's hand pumps faster and harder on his cock. He's so damn close. He sees the captain look at him, ecstasy in his eyes and silently begging him to come in his mouth. That's when he loses it. Eric let's out a low, long moan. Hips buck. Eyes press tightly shut. He feels himself tip over the edge and spill over his hand. Eric has to bite his knuckle so he doesn't moan any louder. He jerks himself off through the waves of orgasm, riding the high for as long as he can.

When it gets to be too much, Eric has to stop. He breathes deep, exertion wearing him out once more. His eyes slowly blink back open. He's wet and sticky but so damn satisfied. He imagines the captain lying next to him, panting and blissful, licking his lips with that cocky smile that drives him wild. It makes Eric ecstatic. He sighs, post-orgasmic haze making him very tired.

He wraps himself around one of his pillows and decides to shut his eyes for a moment.

When he wakes there's a knock on his door and his mind is fuzzy with sleep. Eric stutters awake, heart pounding much too hard. He can feel his veins and arteries become autobahns of platelets and plasma.

"W- who is it?" his jittery voice asks, scrambling for his legs and glasses.

"It's me."

It takes Eric a couple seconds to realize who _me_ was.

He chances a look to his phone, wondering what could be wrong. Eric’s mouth falls open. It's already nine-thirty. He'd slept for two hours.

He goes to get up and realizes with a groan that semen was still all over his stomach and bed sheets. And that his room definitely smelled like sex.

"I'm coming!" he shouts through the door, then turns scarlet at the implication.

He throws on his prosthetics and sprays himself and the room with a generous amount of strong body spray. Coughing, he wipes his stomach down the best he can and shoves on his boxers

He hurls the door open and the ferocity of it scares the captain. He jumps, attention snapping to Eric suddenly.

"S- sorry."

The captain looks him up and down, seeing the messy hair and crumpled boxers, the look of sleep still very present in his eyes. Eric didn't know it, but he looked absolutely adorable.

"Did ye still wanna have that beer?"

Eric nods, wanting to get the hell away from his room. Having a drink with the man he masturbated thinking about was surely a mistake, but one he was gladly about to take.

"That would be lovely."

Honestly, he could use it after the rollercoaster of a day he's had.

The captain beams back. It definitely doesn't help that he'd jacked himself off to the man standing before him. Blushing, Eric says he'll be right back. He smooths his hair, throws on a sweater and checks himself in the mirror. Not to his standards, but good enough. They were just going downstairs anyway. Nothing fancy.

He locks the door behind him, then the two walk in peaceful silence for a while. The captain breaks the reverie first.

"So, how was yer alone time?"

Eric tries desperately not to blush but he just can't help it. He chances a glance at the captain who's gladly confused and a little slow on the uptake.

"I- it was nice. How- how was yours?"

The captain shrugs.

"Productive. Washed me clothes. Took a long, hot shower."

Eric definitely didn't get redder with that thought.

"Then I got a li'l shut eye,” continues the captain, then he waits for a beat. "What did ye do?"

"I read for a while."

"Oh? What's the book about?"

Finally able to talk about something he's interested in, Eric beams. Most people don't ask. Almost no one ever cares.

"It's set in wartime Russia during the1940s. Two soldiers are star-crossed lovers trying to keep their relationship a secret, because if they don't they'd, well, they'd be put to death. It- it doesn't sound like it, but it's, uh, actually a romance novel."

"Ah," the captain says knowingly. "Does it get steamy?"

He playfully elbows Eric in the shoulder. Eric stutters, fingers gripping his sweater. The captain laughs, smiling happily at the other man.

"Ah, I see. It got ye hot and bothered, huh? That's alright. No need ta be embarrassed."

Oh, Eric didn't have to be, but he sure as hell was. How could the captain be so damn okay with talking about this? And so bluntly?

Chancing a glance up, Eric immediately regrets it. He has to dart his gaze away. The captain is looking at him like he _knows_. Could he have heard him? Impossible. Their rooms weren't even close. The captain's was on the other side of the mansion. Eric's mind gets jammed, gears bending with strain. Maybe he _was_ louder than he thought.

He glances at the captain to gauge his reaction. He's not judging him. It's more concerning than that. He looks breathtakingly intrigued. Eric can't think about that. So, he decides to walk in silence, the captain gladly humoring him.

When they get downstairs a few of the egos are there. Bing and Google are the first ones he spots. Bing looks like he's having fun while Google seems like he's drinking so he can forget he's even there.

Illinois, Yancy, and Host are having what seems to be a weird conversation in a corner table.

Doctor Iplier is at a table by himself, one hand holding a beer while his head lies against the table. Eric's not actually sure if he's alive until he hears a guttural groan.

Wilford already looks plastered, martini glass in hand and a dart aimed at King's head. The peanut-butter-slathered man doesn't notice. He bends over just in time for a dart to swoosh past his head and land in the dartboard behind him. Wilford looks a little displeased that his dart met _its_ mark, but not _his_.

Everyone else is either out for the night or having their own alone time. Like Dark, who usually spends his evening with a glass of wine, playing a record, and reading in his study. Eric thinks that sounds lovely right now. Part of him is growing very nervous.

The captain saunters up to the liquor cabinet and takes out two beers, handing one to Eric. They find a table next to the now bickering androids and plop down. The captain pops the top off of his beer bottle while Eric struggles with his. The captain motions for him to hand it over, and in one easy tug, it's off. Eric isn't even sure this brand is supposed to be a twist-off.

They dink their glasses together as the captain says: "Cheers."

Eric nods and says "Cheers" back, entirely unsure of what he's doing here.

The captain patiently waits for Eric to take his first swig.

'Here goes nothing,' he thinks, then takes a hesitant sip.

It almost gets spit out all over the captain. The other man laughs heartily, slamming the table in a fit of laughter. It tastes _terrible_. Like someone pissed on wheat and bottled it. The captain wipes at his eye, laughter bringing tears.

"’Tis an acquired taste." The captain continues to laugh at the man trying to act nonchalant and failing miserably. "You'll get used ta it. The more you have, the better it gets."

Eric highly doubts that. He contemplates the bottle before chugging as much as he can in one go.

Impressed, the captain watches him down his first beer with alarming speed.

Eric slams the bottle down on the table, already a little lightheaded. Being his first time, he's an extreme lightweight. Meanwhile the captain is very experienced in most things and finds this highly amusing.

"Want another?"

Though he's not quite sure he does, Eric nods.

The captain gets up with a grunt and brings them back as many beers as he can carry. Bing steals one out of his arms. The captain is happy to oblige. Google shoots him a look and the other android seems embarrassed.

"Oh. Uh. Thanks, bruh."

"Me pleasure."

He sits down, bottles tinkling everywhere. He hands another to Eric who thanks him.

Staring at the bottle, he's now desperate to see if another one will really taste better, because the aftertaste was hideous. And he'll be damned because it did. Now it tasted more like unbaked soupy bread than piss water. It was honestly a vast improvement.

The captain sucks down a couple more while Eric nurses his second. They talk about nothing much in particular. The captain recalls a few of his tales. Eric talks about times back home with his family, but tries sticking to only the good memories this time. He chats about books he's read and is happy to see the captain enthralled. He learns that night that the captain _loves_ a good story.

"I'll- I'll have to let you borrow my books sometime."

"That would be lovely. I'm not a great reader, though."

Eric hates the shame the captain says those words with.

"That's alright. I can read 'em to ya."

Eric finishes his second beer, mind starting to hum. Bummed that it's empty, he pouts at the bottle. He tips it over above his head, mouth wide open, and let's little drops fall into his open mouth. He sets the glass on the table with a clink. Bleary vision settles back onto the captain’s features. The other man is giving him an intrigued look which Eric doesn't understand.

"What?" his alcohol-filled brain asks. Usually he wouldn't even be this bold.

The captain chuckles, eyes never leaving his.

"Nothin', yer just givin' me ideas."

Still not understanding, Eric grabs another bottle and quickly forgoes the subject.

They talk for a while more, some egos coming, some going. Wilford is the only one who stays the entire time, going from table to table blathering to everyone. Eventually the plastered man comes over to grace them with his presence. He pulls up a chair and sits backwards in it. Eric would usually be horrified by this man, but he was feeling a lot braver with the liquid courage. Wilford claps them both on the shoulder and leans in like he's got a secret to tell them.

"I've been seein' you two together a lot. Nice t' see you're makin' friends."

Eric beams dopily at Wilford. The captain's smile widens as he stares at Eric's unabashed grin. Wilford looks at them both, makes a connection in his brain that may or may not be there, and giggles.

"Ah. Well, you two have fun. I'm gonna go hit the head."

He leaves as quickly as he’d dropped in. Eric watches the man stumble toward the bathroom with a strong feeling Wilford thought the conversation lasted much longer than it actually had.

"Is he always like that?" asks the captain.

Eric nods. Wilford was a strange creature.

The captain stretches out, finishes his beer, and sets the empty on the table. Eric searches for another full beer but they're all gone.

“I’ll get ‘em,” Eric says confidently.

He tries to sit up like he normally does only to find the world spinning and his legs buried in cement. Part of him thinks it's hilarious. The other is mortified he's lost all possibilities of walking again. The captain draws him out of panic by asking a question.

"Hard ta stand up?"

His mouth is wide open, much more impressed than he should be in his drunken state.

"How did ya know?"

Eric notices the captain looks a little blurry as he speaks.

"That’s normal, lad. Don't worry. It just takes a while ta get used to it."

Eric watches the captain with such intense concentration it starts to make the other man finick. The captain scratches his neck timidly.

"What's wrong?"

"Why… why do you always know what ta say to me?"

Apparently the captain wasn't expecting that question.

"I don't know."

"No one talks to me the way you do," Eric continues, not realizing his stuttering is minimal. The captain does. 

"Everyone's always treated me like a kid. But you, you get me. And we just met, but…" Eric leans forward, now drunk off his ass and more lose lipped than he should be. "Do you wanna know a secret?"

The captain leans in with a glowing smile and humors the plastered man.

"What's that, lad?"

"I like you."

The words sober the captain right up.

"How… how so?"

Eric shakes his head, finger going to his lips. If his eyelids hood flirtatiously, it's unintentional.

"I'm not supposed t' tell you."

"That might be best, actually. You're not sober enough for this conversation."

"Yes I am," Eric demands, body swaying, eyes glossy and everything much harder to do than usual. Yet he also felt like he was floating easily on a soft pillow boat. Beer is the sea and the captain’s in charge of their little cloud ship. He smirks, eyes sliding closed. He thinks the captain would enjoy that cheesy image.

When his eyes open they bore into the captain’s. The other man gulps, not ready for what's to be said. Eric's about to speak when suddenly there's a loud yell. All the egos turn to see Wilford falling on his face. Bing bursts out laughing as he records the older man with his glasses. Wilford looks up hazily, notices what Bing's doing, and growls.

"Bing, I'll beat your god damn ass!" screams the man on the floor. "Don't you dare upload that!"

Horrified, the Android jumps over Wilford and gets the hell out of there. With a sigh, Google follows his rival. Wilford gets up and slowly advances on them, knocking into a barstool on his way out. That leaves just the two of them in the bar, Eric _entirely_ gone and the captain not drunk enough to be having this conversation.

Confused, Eric turns back to him, mind misfiring.

"What were we talkin' about?"

"It's getting late," starts the captain, mood changing. He smiles but there's something underneath his eyes. It looks like pain. Eric can't understand why.

"Didja have a good night?" asks Eric, hoping he didn't ruin anything.

"T’was a great night. We'll have ta do it again sometime."

The much more sober man stands with some effort and uses his long cane for support. He helps Eric to his feet.

Feeling brave, Eric puts his hand in the captain’s. The captain gulps but doesn't take his hand away. They start walking back to their rooms, the less experienced man looking like a newly born deer. He's all lanky limbs and unsure, wobbly steps. He bumps into the captain every so often, amusing the other man. Eric finds that every single step is a challenge. Most of him wants to just lie down on the floor and give up. Sadly, he figures the captain won't let him.

When they get back to Eric's door he starts to feel sad. He doesn’t want to be alone tonight.

"Would ya like to come in?" asks Eric.

The captain hesitates, itching his arm. 

"For a, ya know, 'nightcap.’” 

Eric does little air quotes. The captain shakes his head with a pained smile.

"Yer much too drunk for that, laddie."

Eric unlocks his door and steps inside. He turns and looks at the captain, giggling.

"No, i- it doesn't mean alcohol. It means sex."

The captain simply blinks. That's not actually true, but he's not about to correct the drunk man.

"Believe me, I know what ye meant; but either way, I'll have ta pass."

Eric pouts hard. By the captain’s frown it looks like it's super effective. Hesitant, he steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. Eric starts to get excited.

"Take off yer clothes." The captain realizes what he says and quickly reiterates with: "I'll help ye into bed."

Eric gulps but follows instructions. Struggling, he pulls his pants off. He's about to slip off his underwear when the captain puts up a hand. Eric wonders faintly why the other man looks suddenly nervous.

"Keep yer boxers on," insists the captain.

Eric frowns but listens nonetheless.

The captain slips off Eric's sweater then helps him get under the covers. Gently, he sets his prosthetics next to the bed for easy access and tucks him in. Eric smiles sweetly up at him, eyes glassy and entire being radiating with affection. They both know he won't remember much of this in the morning. The captain definitely isn't pleased with that.

"Goodnight lad," he says through a sad smile, turning to leave.

"You're not gonna stay?"

The captain shakes his head, sighing. Eric stares at the captain’s pink lips sandwiched between that bushy beard, wanting to kiss them. He’s impossibly eager to know what they feel like.

The captain watches Eric look so longingly at him without the filter of sobriety. He looks uncomfortable but Eric doesn’t notice.

Liquid courage flows through Eric’s veins.

"I thought about you."

"Oh?" gulps the captain.

"When I was… ya know."

The captain freezes. Eric carries on despite both of them.

"I was readin' a sex scene and the love interest reminded me of you-" Eric cuts himself off. "You have very nice lips. I bet your beard tickles."

Eric giggles to himself, not realizing the whiplash he's giving the other man. The captain starts to melt.

"Thank you, lad; and I'm sure it does tickle."

Eric looks up into his eyes, no fear, no worry, no anxiety, and asks a wanton question without hesitation.

"May I kiss you?"

The captain frowns and bends down. Eric leans up to kiss him bit the captain stops him, a finger going to Eric's lips.

"Ask me when yer sober, alright? I'm not about ta take advantage of ye."

"You wouldn't be," starts the drunken man, but the captain insistently cuts him off.

"Ask me when yer sober and I'll give you yer answer."

He hesitates for a second, then presses a soft kiss to Eric's forehead.

Contemplating, he stands in the doorway for a moment, about to say something. But the words are never spoken. He walks out the door without another word. And with that the captain is gone. He leaves Eric alone and confused in his room, the feeling of lips a ghostly tingling sensation on his forehead.

When he wakes in the morning to a pounding headache right where the captain had kissed him, he doesn't remember the confession or the promise he made. They're all a dream.

Eric won't ask the captain to kiss him. And the captain won't bring it up. But the tension will be there. Strong and heated and filled with a longing Eric didn't know he was capable off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's enjoying the story so far. :) It's been a lot of fun to write.

Surprisingly, the captain isn't downstairs for breakfast the next morning. Concerned, Eric goes to his room and knocks, praying the captain's much more okay than he is. The frustrated man groggily answers through the wooden barrier. 

"Hold yer horses, I'm comin'."

Obviously tired, the captain answers the door. Eric's mouth goes dry. He's shirtless and wearing only thin cream pajama pants that hang at his hips and dip low enough they make Eric's mouth water. His face couldn't help but burn looking at him so exposed. He has a couple tattoos and some old healed over scars and was built like a brick house. Eric thought he was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. Strong as he imagined with rippling muscles, a well-defined chest, and a treasure trail that left Eric woozy and uncomfortably aware that only a thin layer was between the captain being clothed and gloriously naked.

Eric swallow so hard his throat hurts. The captain smiles back, pleased with the reaction.

"Are ye here to ask me that question?"

Eric cocks his head. The captain’s eyes dart away, looking embarrassed. The confused man wonders why. What did they do last night? What question? The last thing he remembers is finishing his third beer. Everything else is a complete blur.

"So, if that ain't it, what ails ye?"

"O- oh, I was just wondering if you were coming down to breakfast."

"Not hungry,” he admits, shaking his head.

He holds his hand on the door and waits for Eric to continue. He doesn't. The captain sighs, scrubbing his face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," his voice forces out.

Eric doesn't believe him.

"’Tis just a hangover," he offers.

"Oh. Okay. Did- do you want to hang out today?"

The captain contemplates that.

"Sure. Just give me a couple hours, alright?"

Eric doesn't like the clipped tone of his voice. Something is wrong. He looks lost in thought and Eric doesn't understand why. What the hell happened last night? Why doesn’t he remember?

Eric starts freaking out.

'Oh God, what if I confessed? What if I came on to him? Maybe that's why he's so distant.'

He had to fix this. Fast.

"If I- if I said or did anything last night that- that offended you, o- or made you uncomfortable, I'm so sorry."

The captain visibly relaxes and grants him a small smile.

"You were a perfect gentleman, don't worry."

Eric has a feeling he's missing something entirely.

"Meet me on the back patio at.." the captain pulls out his pocket watch; "Three o'clock."

Disappointed at the forced distance the captain is putting between them, but glad he's coming quickly back around, Eric simply nods. He goes to leave the captain to do whatever it is he wants to do, but is stopped by the man’s booming voice.

"Oh, and bring yer bathing suit."

Eric doesn't ask why, but he's definitely intrigued.

Bored out of his mind, Eric spends the rest of the morning and early afternoon looking at the clock. When it's finally time to meet up he starts getting nervous. Did he want to go swimming? The idea makes Eric shiver.

He finds the captain standing on the back patio fully dressed and wearing his hat. Eric's wearing a black and white button down with most of the buttons undone, the necklace shining from his chest, and blue swim trunks. The captain senses his presence and turns to look at him. Eric gives him a little wave. The captain rewards him with a growing smile, hands settling on his hips. His eyes survey Eric's outfit. He's glad to know the captain's eyes linger on his bare chest. It gives him a little thrill.

"Ready?"

"Um, I- I don’t know. Where are we going?"

"To the beach. I borrowed a boat. Did ye still want ta go on an adventure?"

Eric starts vibrating with excitement.

"We're going on an adventure?!"

The captain chuckles, eyes sparkling.

"Well, not quite. We need ye to get yer sea legs first."

Eric saddens slightly, but if he's being honest, any time with the captain felt like an adventure.

They start moseying to the beach, talking casually. It's takes about half an hour. When they start getting close, smelling that salty breeze, Eric inhales deeply. His eyes close automatically, adoring the smells of nature. Eric is enamored with the ocean. It's huge and horrifying and could swallow him whole in a second. He loves it.

They walk up a small hill and suddenly it's all they can see. No one else is in sight. It's a cooler August day, but since they're not originally from the west, what feels cold to the locals is nothing to them.

When the captain sees the ocean it's a sight to behold. It's like a star bursts to life in his soul. Eric watches the pure bliss of the captain spotting his long-lost love.

Curious, Eric looks around for a boat yet finds nothing.

"Where's your ship?"

The captain's steps falter.

"It's… it's gone."

Eric blinks.

"Gone?"

The once blissful eyes turn to stormy seas, pain raging inside them.

"There was… an accident. A storm hit. The crew and I did our best, but…"

The captain has to pause to take a deep breath.

"Some of them didn't make it. I was supposed to go down with me ship, but I was knocked out by the falling mast and washed up on shore."

Eric can feel the torment. The death. The longing for what once was. It was written like a map all over his face.

"I didn't know what to do after that. The sea was me life. So, I stole a boat, grabbed some treasure I'd buried years ago, and wandered around until yer Wilford found me and brought me here."

Eric tries not to tear up.

"I had no idea. I- I'm so sorry."

The captain gives Eric a strained look, mind somewhere else.

"Me too."

There's sand underneath him now. It's difficult to walk in, but Eric does his best not to fall.

Searching the shore, Eric spots a boat a few dozen feet away sitting in the sand. He's not sure how it got there.

"Is that your boat?"

"No, but it's the one we're going ta use."

Eric gives him a look.

"Don't worry, it's not stolen. I borrowed it from Wilford."

Eric didn't even know Wilford had a boat. Though the man likely had a lot of things Eric didn't know about. Probably chlamydia.

The captain takes off his coat and other layers, leaving on only his trousers, pistol at his hip, and an old-fashioned long sleeve cotton shirt. Eric decides it would be best to leave his phone and wallet on the beach, so they sit next to the captain's things on the shore.

They go inspect the old boat. Some paint is chipping off but otherwise it's fairly well taken care of. There were two big wooden oars and no motor. Eric wasn't so sure about this.

"Alright, ye take that end, I'll take this one, and we'll drag her into the water."

It's a lot heavier than he imagined. Years and years prior, when Eric had been about eight years old, he'd been in a boat like this. His dad has tried taking him and a couple of his brothers fishing. Eric ended up crying at the fish flopping around gasping for air and put them back into the lake. His father berated him for twenty minutes about how he wasn't man enough and just cost them their supper.

Good times.

Shaking the memory off, Eric watches the captain take most of the weight and push the boat into the water.

"Alright, climb aboard."

The captain holds out a steadying hand so Eric can safely get into the boat. It's a lot tipsier than he remembered. Once the captain gets in the boat sinks further down, the lip almost going underwater. Eric starts to panic, stiff fingers gripping the boat sides, worried eyes gazing over the edge. They were only in a few feet of water yet Eric thought he felt the grim reaper in the depths below.

"A- a- are you sure this is safe?"

Eric’s hands death grip the sides as the waves rock the boat to and fro. Unfazed, the captain looks at the almost overflow of water and shrugs.

"Probably. If not, I've been in worse."

Eric frowns, hating that he has.

The captain grabs the oars and rows them out from shore like a pro. He decides to not go too far. One, for safety and, two, because Eric didn't want to be any more than a hundred feet from land.

Eric should be looking at the beautiful scenery all around him, taking in the smells, listening to the sea birds squawk and fly around them. All he wants to do is take in this view of the pirate before him. He can definitely appreciate his roaring muscles barely contained by the thin shirt. They remind him of the sea itself. Strong and powerful and dangerous. A force not to be reckoned with.

Staring at those strong arms row them out to sea is such a distraction. Eric thinks he should jump in the ocean because he needs a dose of cold water.

They go out what the captain deems an acceptable distance while Eric is off in his own little world.

"Ready?"

When hands offer the oars to Eric, he sits there dumbstruck.

"Would ye like to row?"

Eric gulps then extends his hands. The oars are so heavy he almost drops them. Gladly the captain hadn't let go yet or else they might’ve been up shit creek without a paddle, so to speak. It’d be the most accurate that saying would be for the landlubber yet.

"Tell ye what, how about ye come sit here."

The captain’s sitting on the middle seat. He pats the space between his spread open thighs. Eric gulps but does as he's instructed.

Pressing up against the captain’s chest is honestly very nice. He wants to lean against the expansive chest and stare up at the clear cerulean sky above. It would be so serene and peaceful. Eric starts getting lost in the idea, staring up at the expansive blue before him. 

The captain pulls him out from his trance.

"Ready?"

He quickly schools himself and sets the oars in place like the captain had had them. The other man presses his arms against Eric’s, hands wrapping around the oars above his. 

"Now, whatever way ye wanna go, put yer oars in the water toward that destination and push the opposite direction. If ye want to go forward, start forward and row back. If ye want to go backward, start backward and row forward. Understand?"

Eric nods, the back of his head brushing against the captain’s chest. The bushy beard tickles his neck. It's a wonderful distraction.

"Good. So, do ye want to go forward or backward?"

Eric contemplates.

"Forward."

The captain puts their oars to the sides and in front of them, then cranks their hands in a circular motion. They start to go forward. Eric beams. He may not be doing most of the work, but he's learning something, and doing it pressed so close to the man he's infatuated with.

It's eternally peaceful in the secluded area. He hadn't been aware they even owned land all the way over here. Now here they were, just the two of them, front to back and enjoying the peaceful late summer day. The waves are pretty short. They're not out far enough to be in complete danger. It's a beautiful, sunny afternoon even if it is a little cool. Eric wouldn't want to spend it with anyone else.

Lackadaisically rowing was a lot more cathartic than Eric originally thought. It's a predictable, steady rhythm. They're making some headway for a destination unknown.

"Do ye wanna try it yerself?" asks the captain. Eric isn't all that certain of himself but figures it wouldn't hurt.

"I- I can try."

"Good lad," the captain almost purrs in his ear.

Gulping, shivers spark downward.

Slowly the captain let's go of the oars. They're a lot heavier without his help, but Eric's arms are pretty strong. He continues to row, beaming with pride when he notices they're still making leeway.

The captain is still directly behind him. He feels the other man shift then suddenly there are two strong arms wrapped around his torso. Eric jumps, right hand losing an ore. The captain lunges for it much too quickly and they both are suddenly tumbling out, the boat right along with them.

Eric feels the water surround him immediately. He's not sure which way is up. He struggles, arms pushing the water and getting nowhere. His legs kick uselessly. He can't get any traction. His lungs are screaming for oxygen. He can't see, can't hear anything but a deafening roar.

A fear he remembers all too well is back, filling his lungs and organs with a dark, breathtaking ooze.

Eric loses control. His body is screaming and cursing. Helpless, he can't save himself. This is it. It's just like the bus. He’s going to die out here.

He has no idea where the captain is. His new friend is probably going to die too and it's all his fault. He shouldn't have jumped. He shouldn't have dropped the damn oar. He shouldn't have come today. He shouldn't have let the captain into his life. Everyone always got hurt. Eric was cursed and he was about to drag the captain down with him.

Eric tries to make his peace one last time, hoping he'll at least be able to see his family in the afterlife.

He sees a glowing green light before him and knows it has to be the other side calling him over. He's about to die.

A hand suddenly grabs his arm and pulls him in an unknown direction. He's dragged up from the depths of hell, gasping for air. He hears the splash of his head forced up above the surface. Sound overwhelms him. Sunlight hits his eyes. He opens them to find he can't see. Panic grips talons into his chest. He starts to hyperventilate and his head dips back under the rolling water. He takes in a gulp and chokes, spitting out what he can.

The captain is there, holding him above the surface. Eric clings to him, fingers digging painfully into his arms like a kitten having their first bath.

The captain keeps them up all on his own. Eric is struggling for air, and for dear life, but so damn grateful they're both still alive.

"Easy, easy," the captain soothes. "Can ye swim, lad?"

Eric violently shakes his head, hair plastered against his forehead, glasses gone.

"N- no, he- help me!"

Water splashes into his open, hyperventilating mouth and he chokes violently again.

"Son of a bitch," swears the captain, pissed at himself while turning around. "Climb aboard me back."

Scrambling, Eric clings to him for dear life. He pulls his beard hair on accident, wrapping shaking arms around his neck tightly. He's cold and shivering and so god damn scared.

"You'll be alright, laddie, I promise. Back ta shore we go."

The captain swims them back with ease. If Eric wasn't scared out of his god damn mind he would have appreciated how effortlessly the captain swam them both back to land.

When the sand was in sight Eric sighs, head collapsing on his friend’s back. The captain hits the shoreline and the water weighs them down even more. The exhausted man collapses on the sand, Eric still wrapped tightly around him. They fall to their sides, Eric's hands becoming disconnected from the captain's neck. Still mortified, his first instinct is to wrap his arms around his chest, clinging like his life still depends on it. The captain's chest heaves against his arms as he struggles to catch his breath.

Eric's whole body presses and molds against the captain's. The poor young man is entirely mortified.

They lie there in silence for a long time. The only sound is their loud breath panting out desperately.

He's actually breathing. Eric can't believe it. If he's breathing then he's still alive. It's close to a miracle. Nothing ever works out right for Eric Derekson. Nothing. He should have died today if history had any say. But he didn't.

The large, booming man swept into his life and he felt unstoppable. For the first time ever, Eric felt safe. The man he's wrapped around is drenched, but he's warm and solid and a beacon that Eric already admires and respects.

Emotions running high, he snuggles closer to his back, taking in the smell of the ocean and slight cologne, thanking whoever’s listening that they’re both alive.

As reality starts to come back and fight or flight dulls down, Eric becomes aware just how close he is. His chest is flush to his back and his crotch is pushed up against the captain's ass. It sends a rush from his brain all the way down to his pants and Eric jolts. His pupils dilate, breath hitching. His hands want to touch, to stroke. Eric wants the captain to scream his name, to make him beg.

Eric thinks about his hand sliding low, the captain asking what's he's doing with a shiver to his breath. Anticipation would grip them both as he would scooch his fingertips under the hem of the captain's pants.

Disgusted with himself, Eric gulps, knowing he has to stop. Yet his itching fingers get the best of him. The man drives him wild. To top it off, this is the closest he's ever been to someone like this. Eric's never been the big spoon with anyone. And now it's the one person his emotions are growing for. Among other things.

Eric lies there mortified and aroused, and mortified that he's aroused. Gritting teeth painfully, Eric tries to think of literally anything else. His unquenched libido would have to wait. He clenches his jaw until the assaulting thoughts cease.

The captain doesn't seem to notice a thing. If he does, he's utterly silent about it, still struggling to catch his breath. Eric lies there afraid to move, scared to think, because if he does, he might do something stupid.

Gladly the captain saves him from the internal struggle of wanting to rip off their clothes and make love on the deserted beach. With a grunt he sits up, losing contact with Eric almost entirely. Eric feels very cold and horrifically ashamed.

The captain glances over, which makes Eric blush. All the erotic thoughts running around his mind of them together, touching, kissing, fucking, still had Eric much too hot and bothered. Thinking for even a second that the captain could see right through his impure intentions sobers him. Even more alarming was thinking he might have felt his slight erection. So, Eric douses himself with proverbial cold water. The thought makes him panic and suddenly he's still drowning. Eric swallows hard, glad that sea water doesn't fill his lungs and choke him to death this time. That does the trick. Eric's definitely no longer aroused.

The captain watches him with concerned intensity. He says something but Eric doesn't notice. He's too caught up looking at the ocean. It's all too much. He would have died there. If it had been him and anyone else, he would be dead right now. The captain was his savior.

Eric's gaze slowly moves over to the captain who’s sitting there more concerned than Eric left him in his contemplative haze.

"Eric?" the captain speaks.

Eric hasn't heard that voice call him by his real name since... the incident. It was always lad or laddie, ever since they met. Was that really only a few days prior? If he wasn't addressing him by a nickname, it already meant something was wrong.

"You saved me," Eric interjects, thoughts flying everywhere.

"It was me own fault the boat got tipped."

"No, I'm th- the one who lost the oar. You tried to fix my mistake."

The words didn't make the captain feel any better about the situation. He was furious with himself.

"Hell, you swam us both to safety. If not for you I... I'd be dead right now."

The captain gives him an unbelieving look.

"I mean it. You saved my life."

The captain waves it off.

"Boats capsize all the time. ‘Tis no big deal."

"It- it's a big deal to _me_ ," explains Eric. "If you hadn't been there I- I- I would have drowned!"

The captain studies him for a while. After a minute he frowns. His heated gaze moves toward the dangerous water, sun beaming around him. It settles Eric in his giant shadow. The captain worries with his hands, watching the water with intense concentration.

"Ye wouldn'ta been out there if it wasn't for me."

That gruff voice sounds defeated. His body hangs low, shoulders slumped. Eric wants to reach out and console him, but isn't sure how.

"Before we went to sea I should’ve asked if ye could swim. I assumed, and it almost cost yer life." Those surprisingly soft caramel eyes become glossy. "I'm… I- I don't want to lose you."

Eric sniffles, trying not to cry. The other man clears his throat while trying desperately to hide his emotions.

"Wilford isn't gonna be happy 'bout his boat. I'll have to search for it later."

Eric honestly wasn't sure if he meant literally just swimming out to retrieve the fishing boat or using a different boat to tow it in. The thought sure was an image. Yet Eric had every feeling in the world that he would somehow succeed either way.

Eric spots a blurry bit of white sticking out of the ocean a long distance away. It's partially capsized in a way he can't wrap his mind around. It was just his luck. Everything around him always got cursed.

Dejected, and realizing he's lost his glasses, Eric sits cross-legged in the sand. Metal from his prosthetics digs painfully into his upper legs but he doesn't care. He puts his hands on his knees, rocking slightly with anxiety.

He'd always felt like his time was drawing ever near. Everyone and everything around him had died. He'd lost more than he ever could have imagined. He'd lost his mother. His brothers. His legs. Eric had lost everything he'd ever loved. Now the world was wagging a bone in front of him like he was a starving dog.

What he didn't understand was why, for the first time in a long time, he felt cared about. He felt protected. Not only by the captain, but almost like some unseen force floating around the man was protecting him too. He knew it was silly, and a couple years ago he would have shaken his head of the fanciful thought. But after meeting a man with a pink mustache who could teleport himself through time and space, and a glitchy greyscale demon with a touch of uppity glamor, nothing seemed impossible anymore. Besides, the captain wasn't even sure how old he was. The man beside him could be more than two-hundred years old. Eric wasn't sure of anything anymore.

But he knew one thing- watching the captain sitting there, legs stretched out and worrying at his lip over the lost boat, Eric wanted nothing more than this. Whatever this was. As long as it was with the captain.

Stretching with a long, grumbling groan, he looks over to Eric. The man flashes a pained smile, obviously concerned.

"Are ye okay?"

Eric nods solemnly.

"Are you?"

The captain looks out over the vastness like he's looking at gravestones. Eric figures he is.

"I will be."

Eric extends his hand, waiting. The captain looks at it like it might grow claws and snap at his fingertips. The captain plays an internal Russian roulette and takes his chances. His hand settles into Eric's, fingers sliding between his own. Neither know what they're doing, or if it's a giant mistake. But in this moment, death still staring them down with a scythe in hand, this was their only solace.

They sit there until the sun moves downward across the sky. The captain is the first to move, and the first to speak.

"Are ye hungry? All the swimming and rowing stirred up me appetite."

Eric can't help but smile.

"Food sounds nice."

The captain squeezes his hand before letting go, fingertips gracing his knuckles as he removes all contact. Eric's hand tingles. He feels naked without him, and not in a fun way.

"Good. Why don't we head back and I'll whip us up some grub?"

With some effort and a lot of groaning, the sore captain stands. Eric can't imagine it's easy. His tree trunk legs dig into the sand, making it even more difficult.

Wobbly but standing, he extends a hand. Eric gladly accepts it. He's not surprised when he's lifted up without problems. What does shock him is that the older man lifts him up a little too hard and he ends up bumping into a rock-hard chest. The captain catches him by the shoulders and seems sheepish.

"Sorry."

Eric gulps and shakes his head.

"It's - it's fine."

Eric swears he did it on purpose, but he's not mad. If Eric's being truthful, he kind of likes the manhandling. His mind wanders to the beach fantasy of the two of them going at it, clothes cast aside and the captain holding him down and-

Eric has to quickly snap himself back into reality. The captain gives him a bemused look, eyebrows raised and lips trying not to curl into a smile. Eric balks, stepping out of his grasp. Did the captain suspect his lustful intent? Had he actually felt his earlier erection? Eric couldn't bear the thought.

He settles himself and walks away quickly to collect his things, careful not to trip over into the sand. He senses the captain not far behind. Sure enough, he catches up in a few seconds with those long strides. 

"So," the man starts, a grin in his voice; "Whattaya want for lunch?"


	6. Chapter 6

By time the two men have trekked back home, Eric is exhausted. Walking this long feels like a chore after the afternoon they've had. Even the captain seems a little winded, so they take a break on the back porch before going inside.

They each take a seat and watch as the sun just starts its slow dissent under the horizon. Birds flutter about chirping all the way. The orange sky has a few wispy white clouds floating casually by. The two men sit in peaceful silence, happy to be alive.

Eric chances a glance at the captain. His eyes are closed as he lounges in a plastic chaise lounge. Eric surveys him now that he gets the chance without being caught staring. It's difficult to see without his glasses, but they're close enough that he can function.

Eric noticed that he was cleaner than when he first arrived fresh off the sea. His clothes had been washed too, which didn't help much now considering the body of water they had just swam out of. His beard was combed and the dead ends were snipped. And Eric noticed being so close that he had a slight waft of cologne. Eric had to wonder why the change. Living on the sea for months on end meant very little hygiene was to be had. Now the captain was trying his best to look good and smell nice. Eric couldn't figure out why. Sure, when he first came he smelled deplorable- Eric figured it was from sea water, a diet of fish, and months away from civilization- but he couldn't be entirely sure. That didn't bother Eric much, though. Growing up with so many brothers he was used to some really nasty smells. The captain didn't even compare.

Stretching, Eric relaxes deeper in his chair. He's happy to feel the cool breeze on blushed skin. But what made him happiest was the captain. There was something so charming about him. Some unknown connection that drew him in. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was there nonetheless. Watching the man lounge in the sun, big and powerful, yet a gentle giant under it all gave him an undeniable feeling. Eric was smitten. That much was obvious. If he hadn't been before, the near-death experience sure cemented the idea. Just thinking about losing the other man could make him spiral into a panic.

Eric looks back at the captain, expression growing fonder. He's not sure what to do. He wants to tell him; to express his feelings and know if the captain feels the same way. But Eric knows. It's pointless. The captain was just a flirt. A man like that could never go for him. He was so lanky and awkward and blathered on and on and couldn't stop stuttering. Eric was no catch of the day.

He frowns, hands tightening on the plastic arms of his chair. He shakes his head at himself.

'No. The captain can never know.'

It wouldn't work out. Nothing ever did. He was better off letting this friendship blossom and that being the end of it. Anything more and it was doomed to fail. And Eric was damned if he was about to let fate take this precious person away from him.

So, chin pointing firmly upward, Eric decides he will try to forget about his feelings and move on.

When the captain yawns and gives him a bleary, blinking look, all that shit about moving on flies out the window. He looked adorable, lying their sheepishly.

"Sorry, I musta fallen asleep."

"That's okay. You- you've had a long day."

He can't ignore the way his heart pounds against his ribcage.

The captain nods, grunting as he attempts to get up.

"Aye. But you have too. Shouldn't have fallen asleep on ye."

"That's okay," Eric says and means it.

He needed a few minutes alone anyway. His emotions had been running high lately. Even though they were becoming so close, Eric knew it would end in tragedy. Everything always did. If he pushed down those emotions, made the world and himself think he was just a friend, maybe his life would be spared. The universe might throw him one single bone.

Eric watches the captain and he knows. Deep down, he knows. That will never work.

Xxoxx

The men eat in comfortable silence. Not feeling up to making a gourmet meal, the captain had whipped them up a couple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while Eric grabbed a few bags of chips. It's not much, but it will do.

Every bite Eric took he felt like he was about to fall asleep mid chew. All he wanted was to go back to his room, put on soft pajamas, and pass out in his plush, comfy bed with the captain. The unexpected thought makes his heart fall. The most important part of that thought would never happen. It just couldn't. The curse would continue, and Eric would be alone. Again.

Fears' tendrils slither through his arteries and set up camp there.

Unaware of his internal struggles, the captain continues eating. 

When they're both done Eric grabs a spare pair of glasses, his now in the bottom of the ocean. He cleans off their dishes while the captain sticks around, waiting patiently. Eric wishes he would just leave. That the captain could miraculously realize he didn't like Eric at all and go back to sea. The thought bursts Eric's heart wide open, ribs cracking and lungs collapsing at the thought of never seeing him again. It would be better than knowing the man he adored died because of him, though.

Not paying enough attention, Eric drops the plate he's washing into the empty side of the sink. His eyes clench shut, horrified of the sound to soon follow. Nothing. There's nothing.

Eric chances a glance and sees the plate isn't broken. It simply tinked against the metal. Not even a scratch. Eric doesn't understand why. In the past it would have shattered into a dozen pieces. Now it was perfectly fine.

Confused, Eric drops it again just to see.

Nothing.

He turns and goes to release the plate against the tile floor, just to see what happens.

"What in the hell are ye doing?"

Eric stops mid-motion, wondering how he forgot the captain was there. He looks up to see the other man thinks he's lost his mind.

"The plate won't break," he explains by explaining nothing at all.

The captain blinks hard, head cocking.

"What? Why are ye tryin' to break it?"

Eric doesn't answer, he just let's go. The glass plate falls, hits the floor, and… nothing. Again.

Bemused and entirely freaked out, Eric stares at the ground. The captain makes a strange noise in front of him.

"Wh-" he starts, then he realizes what the captain is staring at. Around his neck is the talisman, glowing green and floating an inch above his neck. Eric almost faints.

"Wh- what the hell is happening?"

Hyperventilating, Eric tries to rip it off. The necklace won't let him. Breathing ragged, he yanks at the cursed object. It’s to no avail. It won’t come off.

"Oh my God, i- it's possessed!" he screams, trying his damndest to take the blasted thing off.

The captain rushes over, hands going to Eric's. The man halts his movements, fingers still gripping the talisman. Wide, terrified eyes search the captain’s.

"Uh, I think now might be a good time ta tell ye exactly what that thing is."

Eric takes in a wheezing breath, face screwed up in complete confusion.

"What?" Eric barks. "You- you knew it did this?"

Frowning hard, the captain nods.

"Calm down, it won't hurt ye. That's why I gave it to ye. It's for protection."

Eric balks. He tries to ask a million questions and just ends up saying:

"Whe-?"

Apparently, the captain understands anyway.

"Please don't get mad, but after we met that first night, I realized ye must be cursed. So, I dug the talisman out of me storage box and give it to ye. It's very old and very powerful. It protects ye and those around ye. But it only works if ye give it to someone else. That's the catch."

Gears grind together. Eric's mind slowly catches up and reels to life like a roaring monster. He has a horrible, lung-puncturing thought.

"Di- did you give this to me for protection?” he starts, backing away from the concerned pirate. “Or- or did you give it to me a- and then hang around me only so- so you could be protected too?"

By the horrified look on the captain’s face, he hadn't even considered such a notion. Eric desperately wants to backtrack, but he's so damn scared of falling off a metaphorical cliff. If it were a real one, apparently the talisman would protect him. His family could have used this years ago.

"How- how could you accuse me of somethin' like that?!” yells the captain, menacing body towering over Eric. “I did it because I liked you."

_Liked_. Eric didn't like the use of past tense.

He was fucking everything up fast. Eric tries to say something but all he does is stutter, body shaking with fear. Face red, the captain turns to go. Eric quickly grabs his arm, but the captain tears it away.

"Please, I'm sorry. I- I- I was scared. Ju- just, don't go. I don't want to lose you."

Eric sobs out the last sentence, warm tears streaming down his cheeks. His body shudders with every sharp breath in. Sadness consumes his every thought. Everything inside is screaming at him to fix this and he's standing there desperate and worthlessly pleading forgiveness to a man that meant to do no harm. The captain was his friend. He was more than that, but at the end of the day, they were friends.

The captain stops. He doesn't turn around. He doesn't move. He just stands there. Eric goes to reach out, hoping just one more touch will solve everything. If he could just let him into his mind, then he would know Eric regrets everything.

"Please, don't go. I…" Eric doesn't know how to finish that sentence.

The captain shakes his head. Eric expects his voice to be dark and sinister. Instead it's downcast and tired. He’d rather he be angry. The man was used to people being frustrated with him, especially his father. But disappointment? He can’t live with that. Eric wants to rip his hair out and scream until his throat bleeds.

"I'm not leaving for good, but I need some time ta think. I believe ye do too."

Desperate and longing, Eric watches the captain leave. He lets him, despite himself. It's not ideal, but it's a promise. And the captain made good on his promises. So far. Eric knew that and it made it hurt even worse. All the captain had done he did for him. Eric knew that too. Yet nothing stopped his mouth from motoring on.

"Please-" Eric grips his hands in his sweater, about to rip out all the seams. "Please don't hate me. I don't - I don't have anyone else. You're my only friend."

The captain is in the doorway. The words make him stutter to a stop. He wobbles slightly before deciding to turn around. Eric stands there wrecked, about to rip his sweater to pieces from the fear of it all. The other man looks heartbroken back at him. When he sees how miserable the captain is, Eric's hands shoot to his hair and he pulls as hard as he can. Tears are welled in his eyes, but he refuses to cry.

"This is my fault. It's all my fault. I deserve this," he keeps telling himself, not realizing he's speaking aloud. "I deserve this."

He hears someone rushing over to him but all he experiences is anguish. That's all he deserves to feel.

The captain grabs his wrists and squeezes hard, making him release his impossibly tight grasp. Eric's voice growls in frustration.

"Captain, I d- deserve it. I hurt you. Please, j- just-"

"No! Don't you dare hurt yourself like this."

The captain throws his arms around him, protecting him from himself. The talisman had done nothing to save him. It probably wasn't a good thing that it didn't know how to stop self-harm.

In his arms, Eric loses control. He tries to fight the captain off. He pushes against him, pulls his body away, but nothing works. The captain won't let him go. Deflating, Eric knowing he's lost. The captain didn't want him to hurt himself, but Eric did.

"Punish me," Eric almost demands. "It'll m- make you feel better."

"How the fuck would that make me feel better?!"

"It- it did for my dad."

The captain’s grip tightens. He growls, arms pulling him protectively closer.

"What did he do to you?!" demands the captain.

Eric jumps, wanting to duck and cover. He whimpers against the captain’s chest. The other man realizes his mistake. Calming down instantly, the captain apologizes by rubbing small circles over his back. It feels nice. Eric relaxes into him, sighing deeply. He can smell the captain's cologne again, which relaxes him further.

"Yer dad's still alive, right?"

Eric nods against his shirt.

"If I ever meet that man, I'll kill him."

Eric appreciates the protectiveness. Part of him wishes that would come true. Deep down, he hates his father. All those years of abuse have taken its toll on him. And he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t fucked up his perception of the world.

"I mean it, you know. You can hurt me if- if you want. Then maybe we'll be even again."

Water drips onto Eric's hair. At first he wonders where it could come from. He leans up to see the captain staring so painfully sad at the meek man, tears falling from his eyes. Eric sobs, gripping his shirt.

"Oh god. I- I'm so sorry. I didn't wanna make you cry."

"It's okay, lad. I don't want to punish ye. You've punished yerself more than enough."

Part of Eric, the portion that's been through so much trauma it's been etched into his skin with a branding iron, is disappointed by that. His rational, self-preserving part knows the man is right. He doesn't deserve it.

Some of the egos walk in to get dinner but freeze when they see the scene. The captain gives them a teary scowl, but they're already gone.

Eric doesn't notice. He sniffles, pulls himself away, and wipes at his face with his hand. The captain allows him, apparently trusting him enough now to not literally rip his hair out.

"Are ye gonna be okay?"

Slowly, Eric nods.

"Do ye want me ta stay with ye?"

"No, that's okay. I'll be fine."

Eric gives off a smile that definitely doesn't meet his eyes. The captain contemplates his expression, wondering if he should believe him.

"Alright, but if ye feel like hurting yerself again, ye come find me, understood? That's an order."

He's dead serious, but there's no actual threat in his voice. Just pure worry. Eric smiles and it's real this time.

"Aye aye, Captain."

The captain smiles. He hesitates then turns to walk away. Before he rounds the corner, he chances a glance back at him. His steps faulter, like he's rethinking his decision. In a few seconds he chews on his lip but carries on. Eric watches him go. He'll make good on his promise. He swore on it.

For a few minutes Eric simply stands there. A couple egos peek their heads around the corner, wondering if it's okay to come in now that the big scary man is gone. Eric sees the Jim twins there and gives them a sad smile. They rush over to him, walking like Monty Python characters in the ministry of silly walks. Eric wasn't sure if the Jim's could do anything normal whatsoever. If he's being honest, he loved them for it.

"Eric-Jim, what's wrong?"

"I'm- I'm fine."

News reporter Jim doesn't seem to buy that.

"If ya have a scoop, tell us, okay? We'll even keep it confidential, Jim-to-Jim."

Eric doesn't quite know what that means.

"It's alright. Really. It's- I'm fine."

That's not actually true, but the Jim's buy it anyway. They both nod and scurry off like two hungry dogs about to steal food. Cameraman Jim grabs the sandwich Dr. Iplier just made and they run off giggling. The doctor turns to find his sandwich gone. He scratches his head and goes to make a new one, wondering if he's had too much coffee and lost his mind.

Eric decides to go back to his room. There's no point in watching the egos all night, though they are all entertaining in their own way. There was never a dull moment in the giant house. Plus, he doesn't trust himself around the knives right now.

Eric gets back to his room and lets out a long, deep breath. He grabs a change of clothes and heads to the shower. He has to share it with Bim and the Host, but they're surprisingly clean fellows. The shower is quick and does the job.

With some effort he puts on his pajamas then gets into his cushy, warm bed. Sighing happily, Eric snuggles into the soft sheets and hugs a squishy pillow. It's almost perfect. Except one thing. There's no captain. After their terrifying adventure in the sea, all Eric wanted was this, with the captain snuggled up to him in bed. Of course, that didn't happen now. It probably never would. Eric realized too late that his fear of pushing the captain away had suddenly morphed into reality. Nothing seemed right in the world and nothing felt the same anymore.

The captain isn't nearly as mad as he had been, but Eric can't help it. He's ruined every relationship he's ever had. They went from flirtatious friends to stuck in an alternate timeline of yelling and crying, and Eric doesn't know how to process anything anymore.

Eric grips the talisman around his neck. If it's supposed to protect him, then why is he in so much agony?

Eric figures it can only stop the pain others are trying to inflict upon him, not what he gives to himself. He can live with that. If it stopped the curse everyone around him had to suffer through, then so be it. He'd suffer a million lifetimes to save them. To have a normal life. To have friends, and a lover, and to someday have pets and children. Dammit, he wanted it all. Always had. And the captain might be the first and only one able to give that to him.

Eric tosses and turns to no avail. His bed is so nice but he's extremely uncomfortable. He can't lie there and just wait for the world to catch up to him. He has to do something.

With intensity he shoves his prosthetics back on and marches to the captain’s room. He's determined to settle this fight. He'll do anything he has to. He can't let what they have slip through his fingers.

Eric gets to his door and anxiety strikes him like a baseball to the nose. He wobbles a little but charges through to knock anyway. He hears rustling. The door is thrown open and the captain stands there fully clothed and ready for anything.

"Are ye alright? What's wrong?" rushes out the captain.

Whiplashed, Eric starts to stutter. The captain takes his hand and hauls him into his bedroom. He slams the door closed for privacy as Eric tries to regain his balance.

"What happened? What did ye do? Are ye hurt?"

The captain pulls up Eric's sleeves and looks for markings. He lifts up his sweater and checks his stomach and chest. He turns Eric around, checking his back then his front again. Eric's left several steps behind him in this process, not minding being manhandled but confused as hell. Finally, he catches up, remembering their previous conversation.

"Oh, you think I- You think I hurt myself."

The captain stops, hands still lifting his shirt.

"Did ye? Or were ye about to?"

It's an either/or sort of question.

"Neither. I… I just wanted to talk."

They'd only been separated an hour and they already couldn't stand it.

The captain doesn't believe him but drops the line of questions, and Eric’s shirt. He pulls the fabric back down to cover his stomach, clearing his throat on the way.

"Oh. Sorry for manhandlin' ye."

"I don't mind."

The captain smirks. He's about to say something inappropriate, Eric just knows it. But he cuts himself off. It's neither the time nor the place.

"Whattya wanna talk about?"

The captain takes a seat on his bed and waves for Eric to plop beside him. They both get comfortable, bodies leaning into each other instinctually. Eric closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. He's got a foot back in this universe, the one he's grown to cherish, and he's not about to let fate cut off that limb as well.

"Why did you give me the talisman?"

"To protect ye from yer curse."

"But why me? You said you've had it for years. Why didn't you sell it, o- or give it to someone else?"

The captain slouches, a hand carding through his hair

"I… Please don't be mad at me."

That was never a good way to start a sentence.

"I- I'll try not to be."

The captain gulps, not ready for this.

"I had bad luck like you. That's why I went searching for the talisman. My ships sank, people died around me. I'd hurt someone years ago and I'd been cursed. When I found the necklace, I thought I'd finally be set free. But I learned it came with stipulations. That ye could only be given that protection if someone who cared about ye gave it to ye, unprompted. I tried to con people into giving it to me, but the talisman knew I had impure intentions. That's when I met a fellow pirate. We-"

The captain’s voice falls, like tumbling down the stairs.

"We fell in love and she gifted the talisman to me. She knew what it was, her intentions were pure, and I was safe. Bad things happened, but not because of the curse. After a few years I realized she was aging, but I wasn't. It had given me immunity to everything, even mortality."

The captain has to pause. His hands clench into fists. Pained eyes stare at a white wall, watching the past play like a projection.

"I sat by her deathbed and watched her die. I watched me son die as well. He was in his sixties, but I still looked the same. I took off the talisman, buried it on a secluded island with me other treasure, and told myself I wasn't going to get seriously involved with anyone again. It was too painful."

The captain looks at Eric, eyes more open than he'd ever seen them. Eric tumbles inside them.

"But then I met you. I knew ye were cursed just like me. Ye have yer whole life ahead o' ye. Ye deserve to find a guy, settle down. Do whatever you wish. It was time for me to pass on the torch."

Eric doesn't know what to say. The captain let go of something so precious… for him?

"That's the honest to god truth."

Mind swimming, Eric has so many unanswered questions.

"Are you still immoral?"

The captain shrugs.

"I dunno. And I'm not sure I wanna find out."

Eric can't disagree with that.

"Does th- that mean I'm immortal too?"

If that thought wasn't horrifying then he's not sure what is.

The captain shakes his head.

"I don't believe so, but I don't understand how it works. All I know is what it did to me. It might react differently to ye. It's a finicky li'l bugger."

Eric glances down at the talisman hanging around his neck. It has a powerful energy buried under the surface. He hadn't sensed it before, but now he could feel it pulse faintly, almost like a heartbeat.

Eric thinks over what all he's just heard. He’d had a partner. And a child. And he was who knows how old.

"What year were you born?"

The captain sighs, hands gripping his knees.

"Are ye sure ye want that answer?"

Eric nods, though he’s not entirely certain he does. 

"1832."

Eric couldn't comprehend that. The man next to him was almost 190 years old.

"H- how old would your son have been?"

He knows he's overstepping but he wants to know. The captain does the math in his head.

"A hundred and fifty one."

Eric feels like he has an aneurysm. Everything made more sense yet somehow none at all instantaneously. He thinks he's done with all the questions. There’s just one left.

"You had it for- for all those decades but never gave it to anyone except me."

The captain nods, not sure where this was going.

"You knew me for less than a- a day and you gave it to me. Why?"

"I already told ye, it was to protect ye," re-explains the captain, watching Eric curiously.

The man wasn't following him. Eric shakes his head, hands gripping his sweater hem. The captain watches the movement and doesn't like where it could be heading. He puts a hand on Eric's and the man calms some.

"You said you had to give it to someone you care about. H- how did you already care about me?"

The captain squeezes his hand, face scrunching with sadness.

"Because yer you. I could tell ye had a pure soul. I've never met a man so caring an' gentle. And that's saying something."

The captain looks away, staring at his dresser. For some reason he won't look at Eric. A minute ticks away before the captain chooses to speak again.

"If… If I'm bein' honest, I've been smitten with ye since we met. When I gave that to ye.” The captain turns and points to the necklace. The man’s cheeks are pink above his beard. Eric's sure he's about to explode. "I already knew I'd broken my promise to myself."

"Promise?"

The captain looks deep inside his soul, making Eric shiver.

"That I would never fall for anyone again."

Eric falls too. His body doesn't move, but his soul crashes through the floor and continues spiraling ever downward. Eric knows he should say something. Or do something. But he can't believe it. The captain likes him back? How is that even possible?

He leaves the captain hanging worriedly without saying anything. The nervous man pulls his hand away, afraid he's said too much. Eric sits there, wondering why his hands feel so cold. He looks down to see the captain has pulled away.

"I- I said too much. Just forget about it. We're friends, and it can stay that way, if that's all ye want."

Eric shakes his head, needing to explain. The captain takes it the wrong way, looking broken.

"I understand. I'd hoped ye felt the same, but if ye don't I can live with that-"

Eric nearly hurdles himself around the captain. The captain squawks, not expecting to be pulled into an aggressive hug.

"I- I like you too. More than as a- a friend."

The captain lets out a sigh of relief and hugs Eric back. They sit there for a long time, the captain rubbing Eric's back. Reality catching up, Eric plays with the captain’s shirt strings. The old style had always fascinated him. Now he knows it's not just meant to look old, it _is_ old.

They only pull apart when the captain yawns.

"We should really get some shut eye. It's been a long day."

Eric nods slowly, sad that this had to be over.

"Al- alright. I'll see you in the morning?"

The captain worries at his lip, eyes not meeting his.

"Ye can stay here, if ye like."

Eric starts to panic.

'Is he- is he asking me to...?'

"We don't have ta do anything, just sleep."

Eric feels relieved. As much as he'd love to experiment, he's exhausted and emotionally drained.

"That sounds nice."

The captain rewards him with a kiss to his cheek. Eric blushes pink, unable to stop himself from grinning unabashed.

The taller man removes some clothing, stripping down to his pants and undershirt. Eric watches him undress, a little less scared to get caught. The captain smirks at him, loving the way Eric drinks him in.

They get settled under the covers once their prosthetics are off. The two men face each other, Eric unsure what to do, and the captain afraid of overstepping his bounds. So, they simply lie there, hands between them touching, and it's enough. It's a silent promise of more. They're just testing the waters.

They fall asleep soon after, exhausted in every way.

When Eric wakes he's surprised to see he's not alone. It wasn't all a dream. The captain looks content, mouth open slightly as he lightly snores. It’s awkward in the best of ways. Eric simply watches him, enjoying that he can do this. It lights up his soul. He smiles fondly at the man, enjoying his presence. He snuggles a little closer, timidly afraid of waking the captain. The other man doesn't stir. He holds one of his hands in his own and slowly starts to fall asleep, finally feeling happy once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was one of my favorites to write. I'd apologize for the pain, but there's a lot more to come later lol.


	7. Chapter 7

The next time he awakens the captain is fully dressed and sitting on his treasure chest. Sun cascades through the window, illuminating the bed with a long strip of yellow.

"Good morning," the captain beams, looking refreshed in a way Eric hadn't seen him before.

"Morning."

Eric rubs the sleep out of his eyes and yawns. He blinks tiredly over at the captain. The other man smiles wider.

"Do ye wanna go swimming?"

Eric simply blinks. Is he insane?

"I thought I should teach ye how. Then you'll feel more confident on the water. And if anything happens, you'll be able ta swim to shore. Whattya say?"

Eric contemplates that. It sounds like a suicide mission. Did he already forget what had happened the day prior? Eric shivers just thinking about it.

"I…"

"We'll start slow. I don't want to scare ye away from it. I went down and checked out the pool. It starts shallow and goes deeper. We'll start there. If anything happens, ye can stand up. I'll be there every step o' the way. I won't let anythin' happen to ye."

Eric decides that doesn't sound _too_ bad.

"Okay, I- I think I can do that."

"I know ye can," the captain declares with a lot more confidence in him than Eric has in himself. It's a nice change of pace.

Eric gets up with some effort. Stretching, he tells the captain he'll meet him for breakfast before they can go practice. He grabs his swimsuit from his room and puts it on. It's still a little damp from the day before but Eric doesn't want to think about that. The memory just makes him panic.

They eat in comfortable silence, Eric puts their dishes in the sink, and they go outside. The captain takes his hand and leads him in a direction Eric usually doesn't go. There's a pool there now that he didn't even know existed. Sometimes that happened. Rooms at the manor would just sort of appear. Other times they shifted entirely. It always threw Eric for a loop. When he first arrived the kitchen and dining room were one separate entity. Now they were this vast, joined communal space. The captain’s room had also been a new addition once the man moved in. Eric wondered if the house shifted for the egos to have more space. Or if one of the egos had something to do with it. Either way, Eric was fairly unscathed. After a while you just rolled with it.

Eric takes one look at the pool and he's horrified. Flashes of the day before haunt his mind. Instinctually, he grabs for the talisman and holds the precious thing. His other hand grips the captain’s hand. The pirate watches him, smiling an old smile. Eric knows this is supposed to keep him safe, but twenty-five years of suffering doesn't suddenly materialize in one night.

"We should've done this in the first place. I'm sorry I didn't ask if ye could swim. I'm so used to people having to know that I forget some never had to learn."

"It's not your fault. I- I should have told you."

They know playing the blame game isn't going to help the past. So, the captain instead asks:

“Are ye ready?"

The tall man walks toward the deepest end and without a word catapults himself into the depths, water barreling everywhere. The captain is gone for a few seconds too long. Eric starts to panic, stumbling toward the shallow end and peering in, eyes darting everywhere. He can't see anything. The big tree above them is shading the pool, distorting his vision. All he sees is his horrified expression staring widely back at him.

"Captain?"

He knows it’s pointless since he can't hear him.

The man lunges out of the depths, now in the shallow end, water splashing Eric. Relieved, the nervous man relaxes somewhat.

"Sorry, didn't mean ta get ye wet," the flirtatious man teases with a wink.

Eric’s mouth goes dry at the implication.

"C'mon in. Leave yer legs on."

Eric holds the railing and walks down the cement steps with great care. The captain stands and holds out a hand, just in case. Eric makes it in and goes waist deep. It's as comfortable as he's willing to go for now. The captain seems to be fine with that.

"First, we're gonna get ye used to the water. Bend over and blow some bubbles."

Eric feels that's something you do more for a child, but he does as instructed. He blows some bubbles, the water tickling his nose. The captain folds his arms casually, watching the younger man grow more and more comfortable from the silly motion.

“Alright, now walk in as far as ye feel comfortable."

Eric feels like he's already done that, but he braves it out. He walks until the water's nearly touching his chin. It's too much. He starts to panic, but the captain is right there. He grabs his waist and lifts. Now his shoulders are up and completely free from the watery confines.

"Yer alright, I got ye."

Eric breathes a sigh of relief as the experienced swimmer moves him into shallow territory.

"See? Nothing ta be worried about. If anything happens, I'll grab ye. Understood?"

"Uh huh."

"Good. Now, stand up and put yer hands out as far as they can go."

Eric does so then waits for further instructions.

"Good. Cup yer hands, put ‘em in the water, then pull ‘em back."

Eric does it and makes a connection.

"Oh, it- it's just like rowing. I'm the boat a- and my arms are the oars."

The captain blinks, slowly catching up.

"Yer right. Good connection, lad."

Eric beams from the praise, smiling toward the water with tinged cheeks.

The captain has him walk around doing the swimming motion with his arms. Once he's feeling more comfortable, he has him relax into the water. A warm hand moves to Eric’s chest, keeping him afloat. It sends nice little tingles into his heart.

The captain has him continue swimming as he holds him up, making it much less terrifying. The slight waves aren’t nearly as daunting in the pool as the ocean had been. At least his chances of drowning were much slimmer. It’s actually almost calming. If he doesn’t think about the day before then he’s fine.

"Good. I'm gonna let go. When I do, paddle and kick yer legs. If it's too much, I'll pick ye up again. Alright?"

"O- okay."

This is it. The captain’s hand leaves his chest. He tries to swim but immediately thinks he’s going to drown. Eric struggles against the water, gasping for air. Droplets splash onto his glasses as he imagines himself sinking to the bottom, water filling his lungs.

"Gently," the captain corrects, holding him up momentarily while he calms down, Eric’s heart booming against his hand. "Think of the water like a delicate lover. Soft, easy strokes."

The man gets his point across by rubbing his thumb over his chest, slow and delicate. Eric definitely doesn't want to think about that right now. Yet he listens anyway. His arms row through the water, careful yet strong, legs attempting to kick. They don't get much traction, but his arms are strong enough that he starts to move. Eric can't believe it. He's staying afloat.

"Great job, lad! Yer doin’ it!"

The captain beams like a lighthouse. Eric swims over to the man who keeps slowly backing up, making Eric follow him out to deeper water. The captain stops when they're about six feet deep. Eric's one of the taller egos, so he could stand on his tippy toes, so to speak, and possibly be able to breathe. Though the thought is appalling.

The captain sees the panic start to take hold and extends his hands. Eric swims raggedly over to him. The captain scoops him up into his arms, grinning with pride.

As the captain keeps him afloat, Eric's hands hold his shoulders to brace himself. The captain's own arms pull him into an embrace. Eric's legs instinctively wrap around his back, not wanting to dig his hard prosthetics into his legs. They're face to face like this. Their naked chests are pressed together. The other man’s warmth calms Eric exponentially. It's nice to be in the water without the fear of getting worn out, your lifeless body floating on the surface.

Pride swelling in his lungs, Eric grins at him.

"I did it!"

Chuckling, the captain bounces Eric in his grasp.

"Ye did. Great job, laddie. I’m proud of ye."

“Th- thank you.”

Giddy from the praise, Eric's legs wrap closer around his torso. Arms tighten around his shoulders as his cheeks turn red. Embarrassed, Eric's head leans on the captain's shoulder, long hair tickling his nose. The captain holds his bare back with one hand, the other hand moving to his -

Eric stops panicking about drowning only to start freaking out about something else entirely. The captain has a hand on his ass. He's not sure if he's doing that on purpose but, oh, is it giving him ideas. Eric feels a jolt down south. It's makes Eric realize they're in a _very_ compromising position. He has to stop himself from thinking too hard about the situation they're in.

He forces himself to halt before his nose picks up a waft of pleasantness. From this close, Eric can tell the captain is wearing cologne again. It smells like pine trees, camping, and ruggedness. It sends his senses wild. For a sea faring man, it somehow fits him to a T.

A flowing beard tickles his face and bare chest once again. He stays there for a moment, having intrusive thoughts of the captain holding him like this, fucking him with all his might while creating furious waves, Eric clapping a hand over his mouth to stop from screaming as he reaches his climax.

Eric feels himself getting hard, and his swim trunks will do nothing to hide it this time. His mind shoots to the hand still on his ass, thinking about those strong fingers sliding inside of him, spreading him open as the captain finger-fucks him. Eric feels like he's boiling alive. The thoughts won't quit. As much as he tries, his body won't stop reacting. He's like a teenager all over again. He can't control himself.

Mortified, he tries to fling himself out of the captain's grasp. When he does, the captain reacts to the stupid motion and pulls him in tighter, thinking the water has frightened him again. His hand grips his ass even tighter in response. Eric let's out a sound that gladly resembles pain, but he knows it's far from it. Scared he's hurt him, the captain loosens his grasp. Frightened he's going to slip under the water, Eric grips on. Together they've created a roiling disaster.

They make sudden flickering eye contact. Eric is panting with fear of drowning and arousal, very reminiscent of the day prior. His pelvis is pressed even harder into the captain. There's no escaping it now. He wants to run but the captain has a death grip. Eric sobs once, knowing it's too late. The captain has to feel his erection.

He closes his eyes, hard, half naked, and beyond ashamed. His face turns redder and hotter. The captains given him a fever that can only be cured one way. If he can just sink and drown, he might escape this hell.

The captain stiffens and Eric knows. It's too late. He's figured out Eric's secret: that all he wants is the captain to rip off their clothes and fuck him senseless, right here, right now.

Eric tries to push away again, but the captain makes him stay. He sobs once more, pushing back hot tears of shame.

A hand comes up to brush the wet hair off his forehead, soft and doting. Eric's eyes fling open. He gulps hard as he sees the expression in the captain’s eyes. They're so gentle and understanding. Eric absolutely wasn't expecting that. His pupils are dilated, and he has a mischievous smirk on his face.

His hand continues to stroke his hair, soothing and slow. Sighing happily, Eric presses into his hand, wanting more affection. He's always craved for someone to do this; to touch him this way. It's so simple yet powerful. Especially to someone so incredibly touch-starved. Pleased, the other man grins wider.

When the captain bites his lip, Eric almost loses it. A cut off moan escapes his throat. He can't disguise it as pain this time. The captain blinks at him. Time stops. Neither moves except to breath. An electric connection surges between them, the water making it dangerous. The captain is the first to speak.

"Is that because of me?" he asks cheekily, eyes gazing downward momentarily.

Eric screams internally, eyes pressing painfully closed.

"It's- I'm not - I didn't mean to-"

His lungs hurt as he almost hyperventilates. He tries to fight away but he doesn't have a chance. The captain cups Eric's cheek, thumb stroking the pink tinge of his skin. Eric's mouth and eyes open, shocked and frightened.

"Shh. It's okay, lad," he soothes, voice low. "Ye can tell me. No need to be embarrassed. I just need ta know, because I want to kiss you, and if ye don't want me to, I need to know now before I do anything I'll regret."

Eric almost faints.

"Ki... Kiss me?" his voice says on its own accord. He's pretty sure the electricity between them has short circuited his brain.

Smile lines appear on the captain’s face as he gives Eric possibly the sweetest look anyone has ever given him.

"Eric, may I kiss you?"

Eric's mouth opens to speak, but all that comes out is a hitched breath. Instead his head nods furiously, wanting nothing more. Eyes sparkling, the captain strokes his lip with his thumb. His finger is surprisingly soft and gentle. Almost like he might break Eric like porcelain. Eric's eyes shudder closed, his heart fluttering. But he doesn't want to miss this moment. He knows it's beyond important.

With a hand supporting Eric's back, he pulls him in closer. His erection pushes even tighter against the captain's abdomen. Eric gulps, endorphins swimming around them. The captain starts to lean in, ever closer. Their lips are a centimeter away when the captain stops. His eyes flicker to Eric's lips then back up to his eyes in askance.

No going back now. If they take this plunge it could be forever. Nothing could change this. Their friendship would always have this flush of romance settled above them.

Eric nods once, a silent confirmation, and the captain closes the distance. It's so soft and timid, nothing like the captain at all. He's being gentle. Too gentle even.

Eric moves his lips against the captain's, wanting to deepen the kiss, for once not entirely afraid. He wants this more than anything. The captain quickly gets the hint and presses their lips together with more ferocity. There's a spark that showers over them. Eric shivers as the captain makes a soft moan. Eric's cock twitches between them. The captain must feel it because he growls and pulls him closer, making Eric's hips rock against him. Eric moans as his cock is sandwiched so tight between them, their lips melding against each other.

Eric kisses him again, moist and hungry, setting a pace. The captain eagerly keeps up, lips joining over and over. The captain slips the tip of his tongue between Eric's lips. His hips buck against him.

Both hands move to cup Eric's ass. The manhandled ego gasps against him. The captain uses the opportunity to press his tongue further inside. Their tongues slide over each other like old sparring partners. Eric feels himself grow harder and his shorts become even tighter.

He holds on for dear life as the captain starts kneading and stroking his ass. His hips move on their own accord, his straining cock trying to gain any contact it can get. He grasps onto the captain even harder and starts to buck against him.

It's heavenly. He's dreamt of this for days and it's actually happening. Eric swears he could come just like this. No one is even touching his cock but damn if he isn't the most aroused he's ever been in his entire life. He wonders if the captain is just as compromised as him when suddenly everything stops.

Panting and unraveled, Eric's eyes snap open, entirely wrecked and wanting to come so bad he could scream. He wants to ask the captain why he stopped when he sees the expression on his face. It's cold fear. And he's staring at something behind him.

Eric gulps, slowly turning to see what had the captain frozen in fear. Eric's skin turns as pale as the man behind him. Dark is standing there, cane in hand, glitching, and looking like he's about to snap.

"Captain, a word, please," bites Dark, anger flickering from his being.

Eric deflates, face burrowing in the captain’s wet yet warm chest and wanting to disappear. The captain moves his hands to Eric's back, rubbing slow circles to calm him.

"We were a little busy," bites the captain, voice sharp.

Dark isn't afraid, and he doesn't back down.

"So I noticed."

The captain doesn't move. Dark waits a moment before losing his temper just a bit more.

"Captain, a word, _now_."

The captain isn't used to people telling him what to do, but he surely isn't about to piss off this entity, so he walks them both to the shallow end of the pool. He gently sets Eric down by the ladder. Eric covers his shorts with his hands, terribly embarrassed. Gladly Dark has the decency not to look.

The captain gives Eric a small smile before walking up to the other man. Dark stands there a moment, not backing down, then shoots a look to Eric. He jumps like he's been slapped. Dark seems almost... concerned. It confuses Eric to no end.

"Wait here," Dark tells Eric before turning. "Follow me, Captain."

The two older men walk off, the captain chancing one last glance over his shoulder to mouth, "I'm sorry."

They disappear into the manor and, for the first time in his life, Eric wants to disobey orders.

He struggles to stand with help from the ladder then creeps toward the house. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light difference. He hears Dark talking in the conservatory, a faint buzz behind his angry voice. A curious Eric stands by the door, listening in.

"You haven’t been here a week and you're already trying to seduce the first ego in sight. What do you propose I do with you, Captain?"

Nonchalant, the captain shrugs.

"I didn't know there was a no sex policy, _sir_."

The way he said 'sir' wasn't nearly as polite and respectful as Dark was used to. The man huffs, fingers gripping his cane.

"There isn't, I assure you, but Eric is a special case."

Furiously protective, the captain’s voice turns ugly. 

"Why? Is it because he doesn't have legs? Because if it is, I’ll-"

Fuming, the captain brings up a meaty fist. For the first time Dark looks nervous and appalled.

"No, not at all. But he's a child, Captain."

The captain scoffs, hand dropping to his side.

"He's in his twenties."

"Regardless, he must be protected. He's much younger than you or I. Don't think I don't know your history."

Eric squints. 'History? How the hell does Dark know?'

The captain scratches the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"History? What- what do ye mean?"

There's a long condescending pause.

"You know exactly what I mean, Magnum. Don't play games with me. I have connections. Don't think I'd let you live in this house without a background check. These egos are my responsibility and I don't take kindly to strangers. Especially not ones involved with the occult."

The captain slams a hand on a countertop and glares fire at the other ego.

"I had my reasons, dammit!" he snaps, Dark touching a nerve. “Besides, yer one to talk. Don't think yer the only one capable of asking questions around here. I talked to yer boyfriend and he told me all about what you are."

"How _dare_ you,” Dark verbally growled.

The grey man pauses for a moment, gripping his cane, teeth clenched painfully.

"William!" he screams.

There was that name again. The one Dark had called Wilford before.

The man suddenly appears right next to Eric. Shocked and terrified, he claps a hand over his mouth to stop from screaming. Wilford gives him a funny look but doesn't seem to much care before walking into the room.

"Yes, dear?"

He stops momentarily when he sees the captain but is quickly unfazed.

"Did you tell the captain about our past?"

Wilford had to think about it for a second then he casually says: "Yep."

Dark grimaces, a hand coming to his forehead likes he's gotten a sudden headache. Wilford often did that to people.

" _Why_?" he commands.

Wilford simply shrugs.

"He asked."

Dark is about to wring his neck.

"Don't you care what people think?!"

Wilford thinks for a second before saying: "Nope."

A soda materializes into his hand. Eyes roiling, Dark grips his own hair and pulls.

"God help me, William."

"That usually doesn't work for me,” Wilford casually admits. “Whoever's up there doesn't like to listen."

Eric has to agree. 

"Fine. If it doesn't mean anything to you, it does to me. Stop telling people about our past. I don't need anyone snooping around and asking questions."

Wilford just shrugs.

"Alright. I won't."

"Do you promise?"

Wilford does a cross my heart and hope to die motion.

"I promise "

Dark sighs with relief, body relaxing.

"Good. Now the matter at hand. Will, I caught the captain here canoodling Eric in our swimming pool."

Wilford laughs heartily, eyes darting from his partner to the captain.

"'Canoodling', huh?" Wilford snorts, making fun of Dark's old-fashioned vernacular.

He puts up his hand for a high five. The captain doesn't understand what that means so he just sort of salutes him back. Wilford clears his throat and puts his hand back down.

"Don't try to high five him! I caught him with his tongue down Eric's throat. What are we supposed to do about that?"

Wilford’s face scrunches up like his school teacher just asked a very confusing question.

"Congratulate them?"

"No!" barks Dark. "They were about to have sex in our pool."

"Are we not supposed to do that?" Wilford asks seriously. "Because if so, we really fucked up that rule the other night-"

Horrified, Dark yells "Shut up!", monochrome face turning pink.

Wilford smiles, almost shyly, yet obviously pleased with himself. He makes an obnoxious noise as he sips his drink through a straw.

The captain stands there entirely amused, looking back and forth between the old bickering couple. Eric's legs wobble. Dark and Wilford... in the pool? Eric shivers. That couldn't be what he meant, was it?

"What did I _just_ say about giving away our secrets, Will?"

In his defense, Wilford actually looked a little sorry.

The captain puts his hand up for a high five. Wilford has to stop himself from laughing.

"Fine," sighs out Dark before turning back to the captain. "I want to know your intentions with young Eric."

"Whattaya mean?"

"Well, is it just a fling? Because if it is, I won't stand for it. You could entice any other ego not in this room and I wouldn't have a care. But Eric isn't like everyone else. He's had a very hard life and I'm not about to let someone come in and hurt him, if I can have any say in the matter. So, what is it, Magnum? Is he just another notch in your bedpost?"

The captain is silent for a very long time. Dark is getting impatient.

"Well?"

"No," the captain says quietly, shoulders slumped.

"What does that mean?"

"He's not just a fling. I'm not sure what it is, but it's more than that. I don't want to hurt him either. He's obviously like a son to ye."

Dark blinks hard, not expecting that. Wilford watches his partner, expression fond.

"Don't worry. If I do hurt him, I'll leave on my own accord. You have my word. Captain to Captain."

Stance a little straighter, Dark's expression softens. He extends a hand, mending the bridge between them. The captain takes his hand and they shake on it.

"Fine then. I'll leave you both to it."

"Thank you," says the captain and he truly means it.

Before Eric has a chance to run away the captain is walking out the door. He tries to hide, but the captain had already ducked his way through the door. His breath hitches when he sees Eric.

"Eric?" the captain says when Eric stays turned away from him, as though it would do him any good.

Embarrassed, Eric turns around, face twisted and self-conscious. The captain gives him an awkward smile.

"So... Ye heard." 

Eric simply nods. The captain glances away momentarily. When they return they’re exposed wires. 

"Is that okay? That I want more than just casual sex?"

Eric nearly chokes. Someone wants to have sex with him. And it's someone he wants to have sex with. Which means he could very well be having sex right this minute.

Mind swirling with possibilities, Eric gulps, still dripping from the pool and wet in other ways. The captain is awaiting his answer, but all Eric can think of is how much he wants to be wrapped around the other man again, hard and writhing against him in the throes of passion.

"Eric?"

Shaking himself internally, Eric brings himself back to reality.

"Huh?"

A knowing look flashes across the captain's face. He can see right through him. Eric can tell he’s trying not to chuckle.

"Is it alright? That I want more than just casual sex with ye?" he repeats, needing to know the answer for both their sake's.

Not trusting himself to speak, Eric just nods. The captain grins, entire body relaxing.

"Good. Would ye like to go to my room?"

Unsteady legs wobble as the captain extends a hand. Eric's mortified to take it, but every cell in his body aches to follow him. He’s excited and terrified, but more than anything he’s happy. The captain cares about him. Eric couldn’t be more ecstatic. After all these years someone actually wants him back. It’s almost a miracle.

Heart racing, Eric shakily takes his hand in his. He lets the captain lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a lot of fun to write. Any time I get to throw Dark and Wilford into the mix makes me happy lol. Next chapter is gonna get steamy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is absolutely Explicit, so you've been warned. Don't worry, it's in the fun way this time.

When they get back to his room the captain starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

"Do ye wanna take a shower?" 

Eric short circuits like he's seen Bing do countless times. Except his chest doesn't actually explode with shrapnel that the Google's have to clean up. The captain smirks as he pulls off his shirt, pleased to see Eric stare hungrily despite the fear. 

"Not together, lad. Unless ye want to." 

Oh, Eric wants to. He _desperately_ wants to. But now that he's here and it's becoming real, he's slowly spiraling into panic. 

The captain steps forward and puts strong hands on Eric's tense shoulders. Thumbs stroke his clavicle, making him shiver. Eric's eyelids slide closed. It feels lovely.

"No need ta be scared, lad. We'll go as fast or as slow as ye want ta go. Sorry I got carried away in the pool. I let passion take ahold o’ me and I shouldn't've." 

"That's- that's okay. I... I really enjoyed it." 

Pleased, the captain leans in to kiss his temple. Eric could swoon. 

"I figured from yer erection, but it's still good ta know." 

Eric turns crimson. He stares at the bathroom door like it will save him. He wants to hide himself and never come out. 

The captain chuckles and runs a palm over Eric’s naked arm. It sends shivers down to his knees. 

"Don't worry, ye weren't the only one who was compromised." 

The captain turns away from him and starts to take off his pants. Eric short-circuits. When he sees a glimpse of a bare ass, Eric knows he's in deep. 

He stutters without saying a coherent word and shoots into the bathroom, leaving the captain in his bedroom sporting a cheeky grin. 

Eric shuts the door and leans against it, taking everything in. He went from pining for his new friend this morning, to making out, and now he's suddenly in his room and the other man is naked and talking about their erections and- 

Gripping the sink, Eric can't take it. He stares at himself in the mirror: cheeks tinged, hair a mess, face contorted in fear. What did the captain see in him?

He throws off his shorts. Well, he tries to. They're wet and stick to him. Frowning, he wiggles them off his hips. They eventually fall to the floor with an unsatisfying splat. He picks them up and puts them in the sink, sets his glasses on the counter, then steps into the shower. 

The warm water feels so nice. He cranks it up hot, comforting tense muscles and stopping the shivers of fear and anticipation. He wants the captain, he really does, but he's so damn scared. Eric's only ever kissed before and made out a little. He's never had sex. It's entirely new to him. He knows how everything works, but only in theory. It's petrifying. 

He scrubs the pool's chlorine away with a bar of soap, staring at the wall of the shower with unnecessary intensity. For a moment he contemplates jacking himself off so he's not such a quick trigger. Eric shakes his head. No, he's frightened but he wants this. He really does. Plus, he doesn't want to disappoint the captain. He wants this too. 

When he's done washing away what guilt he can, he steps out onto the plush rug, dripping wet. He reaches for the towel. There isn't one. Panic creeps back in as water drips unceremoniously to the floor. Eric looks around desperately, opening every cupboard door. There isn't a single towel in the bathroom, and he doesn't have a change of clothes. He can't let the man see him naked yet. What is he supposed to do? 

"Captain?" Eric says much too quietly. 

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't hear him. 

Eric carefully walks to the door so he doesn't slip. He puts his glasses on and grips his necklace for strength. He takes a deep breath and opens the door a crack. It squeaks in protest. 

"Captain?" 

"Yes, lad?" comes his answer. 

The captain is lying on his bed in old fashioned underwear and nothing else, staring at him. Eric gulps. He's actually showing less skin than minutes before yet it's much more daunting. There's an energy about him that says he's about to get laid and Eric can't believe he's the one about to do it. 

Sensing something is wrong, the captain gets up and walks to the door.

"Everything alright?" 

"I don't have a towel. And- and I didn't bring a change of clothes."

The captain smiles sweetly and says: "I'll be right back." 

Eric stands there unsure what else to do with himself. He hangs his swim trunks in the shower to drip dry then goes back to the door to wait impatiently. 

In a few minutes the captain is back with a clean towel, a pair of Eric's boxers, and a white undershirt. The captain stands there awaiting an open door. 

"I'm gonna open the door now. D- don't look." 

The captain smiles through the small crack. 

"Aye, aye." 

To avoid temptation he closes his eyes and extends the towel and clothes. Eric takes them desperately then slams the door. It may be rude, but he can't find it in himself to be anything but petrified. Besides, the captain looked more amused and curious than anything. 

He towels himself dry then puts on his clothes with some difficulty. He feels entirely too exposed and he's not even naked anymore. The fabric is fairly thin. He's sure it will not hide anything. 

He walks out awkwardly trying to pull down his shirt. The captain beams sweetly at him. His eyes roam over his body, taking everything in with a smile. It makes Eric feel a little better. 

Eric notices the captain's prosthesis are off. He hasn't seen many other amputees before. It warms his heart to see the confidence the captain has despite having the same condition that Eric always felt was a weakness in himself. Realizing that he doesn't have to worry about his own missing legs is a godsend. It's scared him for years that no one would ever want him. That nobody would find him attractive because he was impaired. Yet here the captain was, lying in bed, looking just like him and confident about it. 

The captain pats the bed, beckoning the younger man over. Tender eyes and a strong body tempt him. Cautiously optimistic, Eric sits down and takes off his prosthetics before settling down on the bed. They lie facing each other simply soaking in the others presence. 

The captain reaches out a hand which Eric takes in his own. A thumb strokes his skin, patient and caring. Slowly, Eric starts to relax. He has to remind himself it's just the captain. He won't hurt him. And he promised to only go as fast as Eric was comfortable. Which right now was turtle-level slow. 

The captain looks almost exactly like he had the night prior. The difference is this time there's an air of urgency surrounding them both. They're in the mood and wanting desperately to explore the others body; to make the man they've fallen for pant and curse and moan for them. 

"May I touch you?" asks the captain. 

Eric gulps, thoughts turning carnal. Nodding vigorously Eric wonders where he'll touch first. 

The captain extends his other hand, fingers stroking Eric's jaw. Eric's eyes flutter closed. It's much more tender than he'd imagined. 

Wanting to experiment as well, his hand reaches for the captain's chest. His fingers itch but he doesn't want to overstep any boundaries. He pauses, looking at him in askance. The man nods, encouraging him. Eric's mouth goes dry. 

Cautious fingertips run over the captain's chest, finally able to stroke the smooth muscles he's been admiring and fantasizing about for days. He's definitely not disappointed. His skin is tinged pink as Eric explores every inch he can find. Fingertips run over the little curves of his arms, across his sternum, then move to his pecks. The captain breathes heavier. Eric's glad he's enjoying it as much as he is. 

"M- may I?" 

The captain looks down to see his hand close to his left nipple. 

"Do whatever ye want to me, Eric. I'm all yours." 

Eric's cock twitches, breath hitching. There was something so sinful about the way he said his name. 

Curious fingers run cautiously over his nipple. A soft moan escapes the captain's mouth. His eyes flutter closed as Eric plays with the sensitive flesh. 

Eric scooches closer, wanting full concentration on what he's doing. The captain's hand moves down to Eric's lower back, simply resting there. Eric takes his nipple between his fingers and strokes it until it gets hard in his hand. 

"Fuck that feels good," breathes the captain. 

Intense satisfaction swarms his head. Just knowing he's making this big, strong man whine for him gets Eric so damn hard. 

Eric leans forward, dying to taste the other man. The captain watches as he strokes the nipple with his tongue. Moaning lightly in encouragement, the captain's hand slides up to cup the back of his head. 

Excitement growing, Eric's hand starts to wander. He wants to touch every single centimeter of the captain's body. To learn every dip, every scar, every tattoo, every inch by heart. 

His hand glides over the captain's chest and up to his collar bone. He cups the captain's shoulder blade before dipping down and exploring his back. The captain scooches closer for better access. Eric licks his lips as his hand touches the captain’s lower back, wanting so badly to wander lower. Touching his ass is so damn tempting. 

"Is- is this alright?" 

"It's better than alright." 

"Am I going too fast?" he asks nervously. 

The captain's hand strokes his stubbled cheek, pupils blown with lust. He leans in for a kiss Eric is more than happy to indulge him in. When they pull away Eric feels tingly. 

"Don't worry, we can go hot and heavy or slow and steady. Either way I'll be happy." 

Relieved, Eric steals another kiss. The look of adoration the captain gives fills his chest with determination. He wants to make this man come for him. He wants to make him scream his name. 

Cautious but ever curious, Eric's hand slides down the captain's lower back. His fingertips tickle as they glide lower and lower. Eric moans as he grips the captain’s ass in his hand. He kneads at the skin, loving how it's soft yet muscular at the same time. 

Needing a better vantage point, Eric instinctually slips further down the bed. His erection once again presses against the captain's stomach. 

The captain gives a soft sigh as Eric kneads his ass. It sends off sparks of arousal to his entire body. It’s wonderful. Eric imagines sliding a finger inside his ass, making him gasp and writhe underneath him. 

Eric's hips start a rhythm on their own accord, hardness stroking against the captain's stomach. The captain cups his ass and pulls him in closer. He presses their naked chests close, bodies now flush. 

That's when Eric feels it. The captain's erection presses up between Eric's legs, almost touching his balls. Eric moans low and guttural. The captain's cock twitches against his leg at the sound. Everything swirls around as need overtakes the last shred of nervousness he has. Lust takes precedence. 

Eric shifts downward, wanting to feel the captain's hardness against his own. The captain growls as their erections press together, fingers gripping his back. Eric's mind swims. He grips the captain’s ass and starts to buck against his growing cock, panting and needy. They slide together, not enough friction and too many clothes between them, but Eric could come just like this. 

Whining, Eric wraps his arms around the captain and ruts against him. He's already so close. 

The captain puts a hand on his shoulder and whispers in a voice so sultry he almost comes in his boxers. 

"Do ye want me to fuck you?" 

Eric chokes on air, nodding furiously. He didn't want to be so gone so quickly, but he couldn't stop if he tried. 

Chest aching, cock pulsating, Eric is already unraveled. The captain looks at the adorable mess of hormones and can't help but smile. His fingers reach out, rubbing slow circles over his nipples. Eric gasps against him, eyes fluttering closed. Pleased, he sucks the other nipple into his mouth. 

Once Eric is panting and begging, putty in his hands, he’s satisfied. The captain's hand slides down his chest, stopping at the hem of his pants. 

"May I?" asks the captain. 

Eric nods furiously, rock hard and ready to explode. 

The captain pulls the waistband down and Eric's cock jolts up. The captain admires his lover’s girth for a moment before fingertips slide down his treasure trail. Eric bucks toward his hand, needing more. Fingers stroke up and down his thigh then stop. The captain makes sure he gets eye contact before continuing. 

"Ye ready?" 

"Ye- yes," Eric growls. 

Grinning, his hand grips the base of Eric's cock. Eric almost loses it. His fingers dig into the captain's upper arm. He bites his lip to stop from coming there and then. 

The captain's hand strokes upward, thumb caressing the slickness of the head. Moaning, Eric pants, hips bucking up for more. 

The captain starts to stroke strong and slow. Eric cries out desperately, fucking up into his hand. 

“O- oh god!” 

With a growl the captain pushes him into the mattress, heavy body pressing onto his side. Eric realizes he's holding him down so he doesn't fuck his hand. The captain wants to set the pace. 

Eric moans, one arm wrapping around the captain's shoulder, the other hand gripping the bedsheets. The captain strokes from base to tip, strong and fast. Eric starts to babble, breath hitching and eyes flickering closed. He grips the other man for dear life as every thought screams for release. Everything centers on his cock. He's so damn close. 

A thumb slides over the slick head at his most sensitive area. His breath hitches. He bites his lip so he doesn't scream. 

"So close, so close," Eric repeats, slightly muffled. "Please. Fuck. _Please_ , Captain." 

The captain moans with satisfaction, watching himself unravel the other man. Eric hears the moan and loses it. He cries as he comes, body tensing as the waves assault him. Warm come spills over the captain's hand showing him exactly what he's done to Eric. The captain keeps a strong rhythm as he strokes him through the waves of ecstasy. The feeling overtakes his whole body, focal point on his pulsing cock. Eric doesn't realize he's screaming until the captain kisses him to muffle the sound. 

His breath pelts against the captain's cheek as he feels the waves start to subside. His cock stutters up one last time before his muscles give out. His tense body collapses into the mattress, panting and oh-so-satisfied. 

Trying to catch his breath, Eric feels the captain giving him one last stroke. Eric shudders at the oversensitivity. 

He sighs happily as he floats in the afterglow, entire body pulsating. The whole world is foggy and beautiful all around him. Unable to move just yet, Eric starts to giggle. The smitten captain grins at his new lover. 

"What's so funny?" 

Sex heavy eyes look at him, still swimming with hormones and afterglow. 

"That was _amazing_." 

"And that was just a hand job. Wait for the real fun stuff." 

Eric practically swoons. 

"There'll be more?" 

"Won't there?" the captain asks a little concerned. 

Eric might collapse just thinking about all the possibilities. He nods, unable to formulate a sentence. His eyes flicker closed, tiredness settling over him much like the captain's body still was. 

Eric shifts and feels something pressing against his leg. Eric snaps back to reality. The captain is still hard. 

Scrambling up, Eric fiddles with his glasses. 

"I- I'm so sorry." 

The captain blinks, not sure what he's talking about. Eric turns toward the captain, hand hovering over his erection. 

"How do you- Do you want me to…?" starts Eric, mind still too murky to finish his sentence. Gladly the captain understands. 

"Only if ye want to." 

"I want to. I really, _really_ want to." 

The urgency pleases the captain. He rolls onto his back and simply waits, allowing Eric to set the pace and touch him however he pleases. 

Unsure what to do, Eric settles beside him and let's his hand wander over his chest. When the captain doesn't tell him to stop, which Eric is so afraid will happen, he gets the courage to dip his hand further. Eric plays with his treasure trail, fingers carding through the thick, dark hair. The captain makes an encouraging noise while watching Eric's movements. Quite nervous without the urgency of release on his side, Eric's hands quiver. This was a lot easier when he was still hard. 

The captain must notice because he pulls him in for a kiss, letting him know it's alright. Eric gladly accepts, hand bracing on his lower stomach. Still kissing, the captain gently takes his wrist and moves it slowly downward. Eric gasps, the captain stopping before Eric can stroke the place he wants to touch the most. 

They continue to kiss as the captain patiently waits. Knowing he isn't watching gives him a little more courage. He kisses him one last time before leaning up. They make eye contact as Eric's hand slides further down. When he touches the head of the captain's cock through his pants, the other man's eyes flicker closed. He hums with delight at the touch. 

"Mmm," moans the captain, body melting into the mattress. 

Eric sucks in a deep breath. He can't believe he's doing this. All the pining and fantasies and masturbating couldn't compare. 

Eric glances down. A flash of arousal assaults him even though he's just come. He licks his lips absent-mindedly and takes the waistband into his hands. He pulls it down and the captain's cock springs up. Eric’s cheeks tinge. 

'Impressive,' he thinks to himself. His mind wanders to how good that cock would feel inside him and Eric's own cock twitches again. 

He chances a glance at the captain for permission. The man is watching him with fascination. He's sure the other is quietly waiting just for his sake. He told him to take his time, but Eric doesn't want to. He craves to have his new lover feel as good as possible. 

The word lover feels woozy in his mind. He's never had a lover before. 

Gulping away some anxiety, Eric's tentative hand starts to take hold of the base. The captain moans encouragement. It definitely helps. Eric's hand glides up his cock in a loose grasp, vision moving between his hand on his cock to the other man’s expression. The captain sighs happily, a strong hand gripping the sheets. 

"That feels good." 

"It does?" a shocked Eric asks, sure he's somehow doing something wrong. 

"Aye." 

Eric worries at his lip before grasping his cock a little tighter. He starts to stroke from base to tip, touching him the same way he fucks himself. The captain's eyes flicker closed momentarily. 

"Mmm," he moans. "Fuck. I've been dreamin' about this." 

Eric's movement falters. 

"You… you have?" 

"Aye. I got myself off a few times thinkin' about ye.” 

Flattered at the admission, Eric's hand starts to pump stronger. He wants to give him his fantasy, and he needs to live up to it. 

Cautiously, his thumb glides over the tip of his cock, pleased to feel the precome slide over the head. The captain makes a small noise, hand gripping Eric's side. Eric can't help but grin. 

His hand let's go momentarily. The captain’s eyes shoot open, wondering what's wrong. Eric repositions himself on his hands and knees, mouth above the captain's aching cock. It's not as easy without feet to steady him, but he keeps himself up like a champ. 

His gaze slides up the captain's naked body, hungry eyes silently asking permission. The captain moans, realizing what Eric's about to do. 

Eric props himself up with one hand while the other takes ahold of his cock once more. His head dips down, tongue licking at the tip with curiosity. Eric moans, the sensation going through the captain's sensitive cock. He doesn't know how to describe how the captain tastes besides that he tastes like sex, and honestly, Eric can't get enough. His hand holds the base while his lips slide over the tip, licking and suckling with curiosity. 

The captain starts to unravel underneath him. To make a man so strong fall to pieces is something Eric never knew he needed. Now that he has it, he never wants to stop. 

"I can't believe yer doing that. It feels so fucking good." 

Pleased with himself Eric opens his mouth wide, going down on the captain's cock. The captain makes a choking noise as wet lips encircle his cock. 

"Fuck!"

The captain bites his hand, trying not to fuck Eric's mouth. 

He starts a steady rhythm, sucking him off slick and strong. Eric puts all his concentration into not choking. He closes his eyes, waiting to hear little noises to make sure he's doing it right. By the way the captain is gripping the sheets and trying not to let his hips stutter and gag him, Eric supposes he's doing a good job. 

He starts to move his hand along with his mouth. He can't take the captain too far down yet, but he surely can't wait to keep getting practice. 

The captain is watching him intensely, mouth open and panting. He's barely holding on. 

All Eric can taste is the captain's musk. He's surrounded by sex, and the normally horny and frustrated man can't get enough. 

Eric flicks his tongue against the very tip of his head, wetness rubbing against the slit. The captain moans, head falling into the pillow. 

"Fuck, yer tongue feels so good, lad. I- I don't think I'm gonna make it much longer." 

The thought of making the captain come for him while he watches Eric, while he thinks about him, while he sucks him off, makes Eric moan with pleasure. He strokes harder, mouth and hand gliding up and down the captain's cock, needing to make him scream. The captain is making incoherent noises and little words of encouragement. 

"Fuck… Ngh. Just like that. Oh, God. Eric, I'm gonna- I'm gonna come." 

The captain grips the bedsheets, hips lifting off the bed as he moans loud. Eric keeps up his pace, wanting nothing more than for the captain to come in his mouth and claim him. 

When Eric doesn't pull off the captain realizes his intentions. Eric wants to take all the captain will give him. The captain’s eyes flicker closed as his breath hitches. Eric feels the warm come shoot into his mouth. He swallows it down, relishing in the taste of sex. He milks the captain for all he's worth, mind fuzzy. He only stops when the captain takes a shuddering breath and collapses onto the bed. Eric sucks off his cock with a pop, the captain shivering under him. 

A little sore and very pleased, Eric moves his way back up the bed to lie down next to his lover. The captain immediately pulls him into a hug. His chest is heaving with the exertion of sex. Eric couldn't be prouder. He made this man come. The captain, a big strong man who's had who knows how many lovers, and he made him come. Eric couldn't be happier. 

He cuddles into the equally satisfied man, happy with the warmth and bliss of afterglow. The room radiates with the aura of what they've done. Everything smells like sex. Eric is sweaty and slick and oh-so-satisfied. 

The captain pulls him in tighter and plants a sweet kiss upon his cheek. Eric giggles, beard tickling his face. 

They sigh contentedly. Eric starts to relax, warmth of another lulling him to sleep. 

"I can't believe we did that," a starry-eyed Eric admits, hand resting on the captain’s side. 

The captain gazes at him, eyes swimming in an ocean of afterglow. 

"That was fantastic."

Eric sighs happily against his chest. He snuggles close, forever grateful he can do this now. 

"I've never done that with anyone before."

The captain's body goes rigid underneath him. 

"Wait, ye... What?"

Eric blinks. Did he really not know? Wasn't it obvious? 

"I'd never had sex before," reiterates Eric. 

The captain runs a hand through his hair looking at his bedroom wall like he's seen a ghost. 

"Ye mean I..." He pauses, thoughts coming slow. "I was yer first?" 

Suddenly very nervous, Eric stutters. 

"Is- is that not okay?"

"'Tis fine," soothes the captain; "I just didn't know our first time was going to be _yer_ first time." 

There's a moment of silence as the captain continues to process. 

"So, yer not a virgin anymore. How do ye feel?" 

"I'm- I'm not a virgin?" 

The captain snorts with laughter at the adorable naivety. He watches his lover with amusement, fingertips caressing his back. It makes Eric shiver. 

"Unless we just had two _very_ different experiences." 

"But, there was no penetration. I thought- I thought it only counted if there was." 

The captain blinks hard. 

"I think that's more of an old fashion right of passage. People are still sayin’ that?" 

Eric nods, surprised the captain actually gets a bit heated. 

"Some people don't like to be penetrated, but it doesn't mean they're virgins. We touched each other and we both came. That definitely sounds like sex to me." 

Eric has to agree there. 

'Not a virgin,' he muses. It still hasn't quite sunk in. The realization makes his head spin. 

"Do, uh, do you like penetrative sex?" asks Eric, a little afraid the captain was speaking for himself. It wouldn't be a real problem, but Eric would be lying if the thought didn't dishearten him a little. Regardless, he would only do what the captain was comfortable with. He just needed to know. 

The captain sizes him up, similar thoughts running though his own head. 

"It's a lot o' fun, but if ye don't want to I won't pressure ye into it. There are plenty of other things we can do." 

"I want to try it," Eric rushes out. He's embarrassed how eager he sounds. 

"Good to know. Do you want me to fuck ye, or do ye want to fuck me?" 

Eric gulps at the easy way the captain asks something so intimate. It will always surprise him how blunt and unapologetic the other man could be. In that way they were polar opposites. Eric loves that about him. 

"I- Well, um, if you're okay with it, I'd like to try both. B- but if you're not then-" 

The captain shushes him. 

"Ye don't have ta be nervous, lad. I said I'm ready for anything and I meant that. We can do anything and everything ye want." The captain pauses. "Well, within reason. A couple kinks are a little too much for me." 

Eric is a little afraid to ask which ones weren't. 

The captain looks down at Eric's abdomen, a smile slowly growing on his lips. Eric follows his gaze and sees his own come drying on his stomach. Grunting with effort, the captain grabs a handkerchief from his bedside table. With little strokes he wipes Eric's stomach off with it. 

"This seems to be a pattern with ye," teases the captain with a wink. He throws the cloth lazily to the floor to be washed later. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Ye told me when you were drunk that ye masturbated thinkin' about me. And I saw ye still had a little come on yer stomach when I was in yer bedroom." 

Eric's entire existence stutters. 

"I- I did?" exclaims a very embarrassed Eric. 

"Ye did." 

Eric's face flushes warm. The captain chuckles slightly and pulls Eric in closer. The man happily snuggles up and hides in his expansive chest. It feels safe there. 

"No need ta be embarrassed. As I said, I've thought about ye too." 

The captain kisses his hair, calming the forever-nervous man. He supposes he does have a point. Plus, they did just have sex. There really was no reason to be embarrassed, even if he always would be. 

Eric soaks in the sensation of the other man, eternally grateful that he’s allowed to do this now. They're wrapped around one another, thighs pressed close, bodies flush, arms tangled in each other. Eric has never felt happier in his entire life. Part of it is the afterglow. Most of it is finally knowing that the captain feels the same way. That they're just starting this new journey together and going wherever it leads. 

After a while they both sigh, content and pleased. Eric leans up to kiss his partner, the captain's beard brushing against his stubble in the process. They kiss lazily before both pulling away, exhausted and in desperate need of sleep. The past few days had worn on them more than they realized. 

Tired bodies start to float into a content slumber. Their minds fizzle into a hazy nothing that couldn't be more relaxing. Eric basks in the afterglow like it's the first hot spring sun after a long winter. 

Before long they're slipping into a blissful sleep, curled around each other and dreaming of adventure. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one starts explicit right out the gate, lol, so you've been warned.

Groggy and confused, Eric wakes to fingertips grazing his inner thigh. Shocked eyes blink open. He blurrily looks at a tan face with a big bushy beard smirking at him. Shivering, Eric looks down to realize he has an erection. The captain has apparently noticed it too.

"Do ye want some help with that?" growls the captain, eyes scanning his body and stopping on his morning wood.

"O- only if you want to."

Eric quakes as a hand glides up his cock. As the captain teases him his tired mind swirls and stutters. 

"Oh, I definitely want to."

The captain glides an impossibly soft finger over the tip of his cock, tantalizing him. The finger glides down his shaft, the crease of his balls, and doesn't stop until his hand rubs at his ass.

"Do ye wanna try somethin’?"

"Yes," agrees Eric, though he's not sure what he's consenting to. Right now, he doesn't really care as long as it involves them.

The captain's hand is suddenly gone as he rolls to the other side of the bed. He grabs a bottle of baby oil and turns back around to his lover. Eric stares at the bottle afraid of what exactly he's agreed to. He's not quite ready for _that_ yet. Suddenly afraid, his chest feels heavy.

"We don't have to if ye don't want to," assures the captain.

"I, um, I've never-“ Eric starts and isn't sure how to respond. “I don't know if I can-"

He doesn't want to disappoint him, but he's pretty sure if the captain fucks him right now, he'll break in half. His cock is much bigger than anything Eric's ever experimented with before.

"I'm n- not sure you'll fit," a mortified Eric admits after a deep breath, embarrassed and afraid that he’ll disappoint the other man.

The captain's head cocks with confusion. His eyebrows knot as he catches up with what Eric is saying. Realization finally hits him, eyes going wide.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean-" The captain smiles a sad apology at Eric. "I wouldn't expect ye to do that right away. I thought we'd start with a finger and see if ye like it. Not everyone does, even if they think they will."

A shaky breath leaves Eric's lungs.

"Oh. Okay. I think I'd like that."

Relieved, the captain grabs a couple pillows and lifts Eric up by his ass with ease. He sets him back down, the softness somewhat easing his worried mind. The angle gives him the perfect vantage point while letting Eric stay lying comfortably on his back.

"Tell me if it hurts, or if it makes ye feel uncomfortable. Don't suffer through it fer my sake."

While watching Eric, the captain pops off the bottle top. He slicks up a finger with much more lube than necessary. Eric licks his lips, imagining how good it will feel with someone else inside of him. He finds it sweet that he's being so careful, but he's not quite _that_ fragile. He's used toys before. Not that the captain knows that.

The captain positions his body between Eric's spread legs. He plants a kiss right below his knee where his leg was amputated. Eric chokes, emotions barreling into him. But he doesn't have time to process anything as his lover starts to move. The captain continues kissing up his inner thigh, sending shivers throughout his entire body. He stops right before his cock, smiling deviously up at him. A slick finger slides over the crack of his ass. Eric jumps, body twitching with both nervousness and arousal. 

"Ye alright?"

"Y- yeah."

"Are ye sure?"

"Uh huh."

His finger slides in further, playing with his entrance. Sparks of need wrack his body. His cock stands straight up, untouched and needy. Eric starts to whimper, eyes clenched shut. His lover mewls, obviously pleased by his reaction. The captain keeps teasing him until it's almost painful.

"Pl- please," Eric groans, desperate for more.

"Tell me what ye want," the captain demands.

"I- I want you inside of me."

The captain grants his wish. His finger presses inside him, slow and wonderful. Eric gasps, ass clenching around him. The captain gives him a moment before pushing in even further. He doesn't stop until he's spread Eric open for him. His hand starts to move, slowly fucking his ass. Eric grips the mattress on both sides of him, vision blurry. He swears he could come just like this, without anyone touching his cock.

"Ho- holy fuck," he breathes, reveling in the sensation. “It’s e- even better than I thought it would be.”

What he doesn't realize is the captain isn't done with him yet. There's an unexpected wetness against his cock, stroking the tip. Eric gasps, eyes darting downward. Mischievous brown eyes stare up at him. His slick tongue is playing with the head of his cock at the same time his finger is fucking his ass. It's beautiful torture.

"Gnnn!" moans Eric between gritted teeth, breaths becoming ragged as his cock pulsates in his lover’s mouth. 

"Do ye want me to suck yer cock as I fuck yer ass?" the captain purrs, damn near tipping Eric over the edge.

"Yes!" he begs, cock aching for release. 

Experienced wet lips slide down his cock all the way to the base in one go. Eric gasps, hips bucking up on their own accord. He hears the captain make a choking sound.

"Shit, I- I'm sorry," panics Eric, pissed at himself for accidentally deepthroating his lover.

The captain steadies himself and glances up at him. He doesn't look mad or hurt, thank god, only pleased with himself for causing such a strong reaction. Eric thanks his lucky stars as he pants from embarrassment and arousal.

Not getting frustrated by the small setback, the captain bobs his head up and down on Eric's cock, watching his eyes the entire time. He's so warm and so wet around him. It's beyond intimate, unlike anything Eric's ever experienced before. Electricity shoots from the captain’s mouth, making Eric shiver from the strong sparks. His finger continues to fuck his ass as his mouth sucks him off. Eric’s unraveled so quickly it’s embarrassing. He grits his teeth trying not to scream as his balls draw up. Everything centers on his cock as the captain goes down on him. He pants loudly, body going rigid. The captain moans around him, the vibrations everything he needs to start tipping him over the edge.

"O- oh fuck. Oh god. Captain!" Eric moans without thought, voice rising. "Fuck, I- I think I'm-"

An impossibly strong orgasm overtakes him. His hips sputter up, warm come shooting down the captain's throat. His ass clenches around his finger as he fucks him through his climax. It’s so powerful it’s almost painful. Eric starts to scream. There's nothing that can stop him. He’s so gone he doesn't care who hears.

"Ahhhhhh!" his voice bellows, cock pulsing as he has an orgasm more powerful than any he's ever had before.

The captain takes everything Eric gives him. Knowing his lover is swallowing his come makes his mind spin. The captain continues to suck him off until Eric can’t take it anymore. Suddenly his mouth becomes too much very fast. Eric's hand falls to the captain's head hoping he deciphers the motion, because there's no way he can talk yet. Gladly the captain understands entirely. His finger slips out of his ass as his mouth pops off from Eric's cock. The wracked man shudders from the loss of contact. He's sweaty and cold and swears he's transcended to heaven.

He's too preoccupied to notice the captain desperately grasp at his own cock. The man pumps himself hard and fast, hand still slick with lube. Fucking Eric has him so far gone he has to get himself off immediately. He growls as he spills over his hand, watching Eric's heaving chest and knowing he's the one who's done this to him. Meanwhile, Eric is completely unaware, the world catching up to him.

Eventually he feels the captain settle down beside him, grunting with the movement. He doesn’t even have the strength to open his eyes. After a minute he blinks them open and can properly see again. He glances over to see a very satisfied captain watching him. His fingers stroke his arm as they both bask in the afterglow.

"Wait. Did you just...?"

The captain looks away, embarrassed.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it. Seeing ye like that was too much. I had to jerk meself off. It was getting painful."

Eric can't be mad about that. Pride fills his lungs as he breathes in deeply. It’s his first proper breath in a while. As he lets it out he starts to smile.

"Don't be embarrassed. Th- that’s really sweet."

Eric cuddles into his lover, blissful and content. His mind wanders over their escapades, wanting to remember every single detail. A little embarrassed himself now, he remembers screaming as he came. The last thing they needed was an ego barging in to see what was wrong, yet he can't even feel that self-conscious. Let them know. He was with the captain and it's the first time he's felt this happy in years. If anyone was upset about that they could fuck themselves.

“Yer noises got me so hard,” admits the captain as he holds Eric close, also recalling every detail.

Eric gulps hard, even more embarrassed. He nuzzles into his chest, trying to hide. His voice is muffled when he speaks.

“Really?”

The captain hums and nods against him. He tries to look into Eric’s eyes but he refuses to make eye contact quite yet.

“I w- wasn’t too loud, was I?”

“Absolutely not,” his lover clarifies, then sees how ashamed Eric seems. “Ye don’t need to be embarrassed, lad.”

Chancing a glance upward, Eric smiles shyly. He knows that he doesn’t, yet he can’t help it.

The captain's stomach rumbles against his hand, bringing them back to cruel reality. Eric realizes they haven't eaten for more than an entire day. The men had gotten pleasantly distracted, but they definitely needed energy after all the exercise they'd gotten.

“Christ, I’m starving,” the captain realizes aloud.

“Me too.”

They lie there for a moment longer, not wanting to get up but knowing they have to. The captain presses a soft kiss to his forehead as he hums with delight.

“Let’s get some food, then we can go at it again if ye want.”

Eric could definitely live with that.

After getting dressed with too much effort, they walk down to the kitchen hand in hand. Dark and Wilford are there, as is Bing who’s sitting in the corner playing on a 3DS. Wilford's eating a slice of chocolate cake like he’s making love to it. Dark is eyeing the sweet as though he wants some but he's been on a diet for a week and if he fails now, he'll fail forever. But Dark doesn't consume anything lacking caffeine or alcohol, so Eric assumes the look means something else. By the way Wilford is moaning, he can take an educated guess.

When the new love birds walk in all three pairs of eyes dart to their conjoined hands. It makes Eric pause while the captain keeps going. The sudden stop in motion jerks the captain back a little and in doing so lunges Eric forward. They look like a disaster.

Giggling, they quickly steel themselves. The other egos simply stare, none of them quite expecting the scene before them.

Unfazed by everything else around him, the captain gets to work making them brunch. Bing goes back to his videogame relatively unscathed. Eric chances a glance from the corner of his eye at the other oldest egos. To his surprise both are looking at them and smiling. Wilford's grin is much bigger than Dark's, but the monochrome man smiles nonetheless. Eric stops a gasp as Dark extends his hand under the table. Wilford automatically takes it and squeezes. It only lasts for a moment, yet Eric sees the way Dark looks at Wilford then when he thinks no one else is looking, and Eric can't help himself. He turns back toward the stove and grins. He's not sure why they’re afraid to tell the other egos they're in a relationship, but he's sure they have good reasons, so he decides to let them be.

His attention turns back to his own beau who he’s more than proud to tell the world is his. The man is currently whipping up some sort of meal. Eric's not entirely sure what it is, but he's so hungry he barely cares, so he decides to set their places instead.

When the food is done, they sit down beside each other, Eric's left hand instantly joining the captain's right. It's a little awkward for the captain to eat with his left hand but he does a good job of it.

Before they start the captain gets a bite on his fork and offers it to Eric. His mouth opens in waiting, slightly nervous of the mystery food. The captain feeds him a bite and waits for his reaction. Eric's lips slide down to the edge of the fork and he moans as he tastes something heavenly. Eric realizes too late what he's done when he sees Dark flash him a look across the table. Eric huddles close to his lover, beet red and utterly embarrassed. A hearty laugh comes from the captain, a hand slapping his own thigh.

Suddenly a fork is coming out of nowhere and stealing a bite off the captain's plate. The culprit is Wilford. Dark snaps a frustrated "Will!" at him but the man doesn't seem to care. He takes a bite and makes a pleasant sound which makes Dark visibly uncomfortable yet again.

"Well, fuck me, this is good," exclaims Wilford. "Great job, Captain."

"Thank you, Colonel."

Dark glitches red and blue from that word. His nose scrunches angrily as Wilford gives him a sheepish look and puts up defensive hands.

"I've kept my word, I promise."

"Aye, he's telling the truth," saves the captain. “He told me his rank when he brought me here.”

Dark doesn't seem pleased, but he's not quite as pissed either.

"Fine," he claims, giving his partner another displeased look.

Dark’s eyes roam over to the captain's plate, now curious himself. Watching Dark's gaze, the captain digs a fork in and offers it to him.

"Would ye like to try it?"

Eric could sense Dark automatically wants to say no, but something must stop him. He takes the fork and puts the food carefully inside his mouth like he's forgotten how to eat. Eric wouldn't be surprised if that were true. As soon as the morsel is in his mouth, Dark freezes. His head glitches for a moment as his head turns to look at the captain.

"You... you made this?"

The captain nods, visibly nervous but trying his best not to show it. Even if no one else can see it, Eric can.

"Is it good?"

"It's wonderful," claims a shocked Dark.

"Thank ye.” Relieved, the captain beams, chest puffing. “‘Tis an old recipe."

Dark seems to contemplate stealing another bite but thinks better of it. Wilford has much less tact and decides to sneak one more. The new couple watches the mustachioed man in good humor.

"I can always make extras next time,” offers the captain.

“Do you enjoy cooking?” asks Dark as he watches his old friend eat off from the captain’s plate.

“Aye.”

Eric knows it’s hard for him to admit such a thing out loud. Smiling with pride, Eric squeezes the captain’s hand. His lover squeezes back in solidarity as Dark contemplates across from them.

"Good. Then you should become our chef,” offers Dark simply as he steals the fork out of Wilford’s hand. The other man pouts as Dark continues, unfazed by his puppy dog eyes. “Everyone would love that. We're all terrible at making food."

The captain waves him off, not believing a word. With growing excitement Eric silently looks between the three other men.

"I'm serious, Magnum. If you'd like to, we'd be honored."

"I... I don't know what to say."

Eric watches the captain glance cautiously at all of them in mild shock. Smiling happily, Eric watches his lover look away, angry that he’s embarrassed. He knows that this is basically a dream coming true or him. Even if he doesn’t like to admit it to anyone but Eric.

"I think you should," urges Eric. "It would make you h- happy. You could replace Bim. I think everyone w- would be really grateful."

By the other two egos' faces, Eric knows they agree.

"Really?" the captain's usually booming voice asks, now unbelieving and small.

Eric melts. His feelings for the other man curl around him like a warm hug. He knows his eyes are a dead giveaway to his feelings. Though part of him is nervous that the windows to his soul aren’t tinted, he wants the captain to see that he’s entirely serious.

"Yeah! Everyone'd love your cooking. I- I know I do."

The captain blushes and scratches his hand in embarrassment.

"Well, aren't ye a man after me own heart."

Eric freezes. The comforting hug of emotions now wrap around his neck like two demonic hands. By the way the captain says it, and the fond glimmer in his eyes, it seems almost like a confession. Neither of them are ready for one yet. The captain’s gaze darts away shyly. Eric twiddles with his shirt sleeves, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Noticing the intense awkwardness between them the other two go back to their earlier conversation. Once in a while they’ll glance over and whisper to each other. Eric doesn’t like it. He knows they wouldn’t judge him, but the voice in his head doesn’t seem to agree.

The new couple eats their lunch in silence, both trying not to rush any more than they already have. 

"Why don't ye cook?" the captain asks after a while, needing a distraction.

Eric bites the proverbial worm. This was a conversation he could handle.

"Oh, I'm... I'm not very good."

"Psh, don't say that. I'm sure yer an excellent cook, lad."

"I'm really not,” he admits with a shake of his head. “I even burn toast. B- but that's okay, because you're really good."

"I know something ye were _very_ good at," admits the captain, eyebrows wiggling.

Eric burns up, which just makes the captain chuckle. He pulls Eric in for a hug and kisses the top of his head.

The other couple watches them, happy for the two but a little jealous that they feel comfortable with displaying affection. What took those two a few days has taken them decades. A hundred years of pain and pining later and they were still afraid to let the world know what they had, because it could all be taken away.

Eric could know none of that fear, though, so he was stuck in his own little world of bliss. But under it all the same fear ate at him. Deep below the surface he knew nothing could stay this wonderful forever. The talisman around his neck protected him, but now the captain was exposed to the dangers of the outside world. At any moment something could go wrong. Eric knows there has to be a solution. He would have to find a way to protect them both. Now that he found this man, he wasn't about to give him up.

Xxoxx

The next few weeks are filled with a lot of experimenting, taking breaks to eat, passing out, and going at it all over again. Eric's never felt so horny yet so satisfied in his entire life.

They start to stay exclusively in the captain's room. It's bigger and has its own bathroom, so they barely have to leave their little love nest. Eric adores every moment. They make love in the shower and against the dresser and on the bed in any position they can. The once touch-starved Eric adores the affection and his lover is happy to oblige.

One night they sneak into the garden between two maze walls of foliage. The heat between them warms the cool early September air. Eric watches the stars shimmer and sparkle overhead as the captain takes him into his mouth and unravels him in minutes. Eric never understood the fascination of outdoor sex until this very moment. Sure, it wasn't as comfortable: hard ground in his back, a stone digging into his shoulder and his bare ass on dewy grass. And there wasn't any real privacy, but the thought of getting caught at any minute was so damn invigorating it made up for everything else. He watches the constellations above as he comes, teeth biting his hand so no one hears him screaming. 

They go back to their bed after they're both thoroughly satisfied. The two pass out almost immediately, the last few days wearing on them.

When they wake up the next morning Eric is completely exhausted. Their kisses are slow as hands wander over each other. Instead of having sex they simply explore each other, basking in the warmth and comfort they’ve created together. They’re starting to learn each others’ bodies. How to make the other moan. What touches create sparks and which make the other melt. Neither minds the change. Their bodies are sore, but their hearts are full.

Eventually they groan and pop as they stretch, then go make some grub like usual. They whip up a wonderfully hearty, not at all heart-friendly breakfast for all of the egos, then lounge around the pool all afternoon.

The days go by like this in a wonderful, never-ending blur. In the evenings Eric reads to the captain. They watch movies with the other egos. They make love. Whatever they wish. The world is theirs.

Days turn to domestic and peaceful weeks. Eric will never forget their times together that made up for all those years of loneliness and jacking off alone. Now he has someone who cares about him. Who doesn’t judge him for being an amputee, or make fun of his stuttering. In the captain he’s found a best friend, lover, and confidant. As time flies by, Eric gratefully soaks in every good feeling he’s never had the luxury of experiencing. He finds himself holding the pendant around his neck whenever they’re apart. Though they’re not away from each other often, it feels like a part of him is always there, protective and doting. It always makes him feel better that, no matter what, the captain will always come back to him. When he sees the captain again his heart patters, letting him know exactly how much he adores him. If the world would let him, Eric would stay like this forever. It's the happiest few weeks in his life, and he hopes it will never end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this story is now officially halfway done now. :) We have a couple chapters left until my favorite chapter. Thank you to everyone for reading this. I really appreciate you all sticking with me. <3 You're the best.


	10. Chapter 10

It's a surprisingly warm night for early autumn. Which is good because the ocean is freezing cold, but bearable after a while. It's his idea to have a midnight swim with the captain. He's always wanted a partner to share this sort of moment with. To Eric it always seemed so romantic. 

The captain has been helping Eric become a stronger swimmer as he’d promised. He's given him some pointers and Eric's actually starting to get really good at it. After weeks of practice the captain has deemed Eric ready. They hadn't been back to the ocean together since Eric almost drowned. The man is determined to beat the fear inside him of the captain's former mistress. 

The men brought a couple blankets they don't mind getting sandy, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. They decide to swim first and not tempt fate by mixing alcohol and water. Eric's seen enough movies to know that. 

They put their stuff in a sandy area and start wading into the ocean. It's cold on his most sensitive areas, but he feels braver with the captain beside him. 

When they get a few meters out they decide that's far enough. The enamored men splash around, laughing and chasing each other. Eventually the captain catches up, taking his partner in his arms. Eric giggles when hands tickle his sides. He roars with laughter, trying to push the man away. His lover simply laughs, not letting up. Eric can't escape. So, he does the one thing he can think to do: fight back. He tickles the captain’s neck, making him balk. The captain laughs, now the one being assaulted. Giggling hard, Eric doesn’t stop. To save himself the captain pulls Eric in, trapping his arms in a hug. Eric giggles, not scared at all. He keeps himself afloat by kicking the water below and by using the captain as a floaty. 

Deeming it safe, the captain lets go. A hand goes to Eric's lower back as he finds the other man’s sides. They stay there suspended in the water, floating almost effortlessly. Moonlight reflects across the waves, casting shadows and an eerie glow upon them. To Eric it feels like it's just the two of them, the rest of the world going on without a care. There are millions of creatures in the sea, but none bother them. There are houses a ways down, but the patrons couldn't see them clearly if they tried. The moon shining on the calm waters, the slight warm breeze in the air, and the beautiful rosiness of a new relationship make everything romantic bliss. Only the sound of waves interrupts them. 

The two men float, simply watching each other. Their eyes interlock, thoughts connecting. Eric's eyes flicker to the captain's lips, making the man smile. They both lean in for a soft kiss. When Eric pulls back he's giggling again. The captain chuckles along with him, though he's confused as to why. 

"What's so funny?" 

"It's not funny, really. It- it's just that… this is perfect." 

Body tensing in his arms, the captain turns unexpectedly squeamish. Eric wonders if he's said something taboo. The sea swarms around them, threatening to pull Eric down into its deadly depths once more. He's not sure how he's said the wrong thing, but he has to fix it fast. 

"I'm s- sorry, I-" 

The captain cuts him off. 

"Don't be sorry, lad, I just…" The melancholy pirate trails off, watching the moon twinkle above them. "Yer right. This is perfect." 

"Then what's wrong?" 

Eric wasn't sure why the captain sounded so heartbroken. His thumb rubs small circles on the captain's tense shoulder. It seems to bring the man back to reality. Melancholy eyes pierce Eric's. In the moonlight they look more open than usual. More vulnerable. Scared even. Eric shivers and it's not because of the frigid water. 

"It's too perfect." 

"Can… can that really happen?" whispers Eric, never having a perfect thing happen to him before in his once miserable life. 

"Aye." 

Desperate eyes search the captain for more answers and only get sadness back. 

"Y- you don't want perfect?" Eric asks solemnly. 

"That's not the problem. It's… it's complicated." 

The captain let's go of Eric. Almost like he's falling, the other slowly swims further out. Eric floats there, mouth agape, eyes twinkling with tears, watching as he goes. His body screams to follow. Hands long to touch him. Eric’s afraid the last time has already happened and he didn't have enough time to savor it. 

Ever cautious, Eric swims after him. If the captain wanted to end this, he would respect his wishes. They weren’t officially dating yet. Neither had put an official title on what they had together. But he wasn't going to let something so precious slip away without knowing why. 

The captain stops a few feet away, body floating like a buoy. His heavy gaze falls upon the horizon, contemplating life. Contemplating love. Contemplating friendship and everything else he's lost in this expansive sea. He senses Eric behind him and starts to speak, watching the waves forever rolling in. It’s one of the few constants in the world. 

"I like ye, lad. I really like ye. More than I thought I did. Over the past few weeks I've realized that I…" The captain doesn't finish that sentence, too afraid to say something he can't take back. "I don't want to mess this up." 

Eric isn't used to seeing the captain being the vulnerable one. Body aching to hold him, Eric swims closer. He wants to wrap himself around the man, plant kisses all over his face and reassure him. Since he can't, Eric puts a hand on a tense shoulder and finds the courage to speak. 

"I'm afraid too, but we have something that I never thought I'd have with anyone. When I lost my legs, no one understood m- my struggles. No one wanted to go out with me. And- and after a while I stopped asking. But then you came around and I couldn't stop thinking about you. I never want to leave you. I'm not a social person. But when I'm around you I feel l- like I'm with not just my best friend b- but someone I feel I can tell anything to, or do anything with." 

Eric blushes from the last part, but storms determinedly on. 

"So, it might seem too perfect, but that doesn't have to be scary. I'm tired of running away. I finally found you and I'm not- I don't want to let you go." 

Everything he said is true and it horrifies him. The more you have, the scarier it is that the universe will take it away. Afraid he’s saying too much, Eric pauses. 

"I mean, unless you want to leave. I- I'd understand if you did." 

Slow and cautious, the captain turns toward him. Beneath all the fear and doubt there's understanding. The captain opens his mouth to speak. Eric gulps, praying that he doesn't actually sever his heartstrings. If he leaves, Eric would rather sink to the ocean floor and swim with the fishes, so to speak. 

Instead of speaking the captain surprises him. He surges forward, lips pressing into his. Shocked, Eric let's him but doesn't have time to respond before the kiss is over. He pouts slightly, the captain turning to jelly. Giving him time to prepare, the captain leans in and gives him a proper kiss. Eric rewards him with a shy smile when they part. Sighing deeply, Eric releases some of his nervous energy. He’s eternally grateful that the captain hasn’t decided he’s as worthless as Eric’s always scared he is. 

"Yer right, lad. Sorry I got sentimental on ye." 

"That's okay." 

Eric knows it's important. The captain, as much as he feels like he knows him, is still an enigma. The stoic man isn't much for talking about his feelings. He's more of the protective type. He's good at calming other people down; especially Eric. If he's starting to feel comfortable enough to express his fears and insecurities, then that's an excellent thing. Eric knows this is good progress. 

His lover seems to be feeling much better. His eyes sparkle with an idea. Eric tries to decipher the look when he says: "Race ye to shore!" 

The captain takes off with a jolt, leaving Eric dumbstruck. He shakes himself and desperately tries to catch up. His arms power through the water, limbs twisting and turning as his strengthening body guides him toward land. The captain chances a glance back and is startled to see Eric catching up. The pride he feels can’t be contained. The captain slows slightly, giving Eric the advantage. 

The younger man isn't paying attention. He's butterfly paddling with all his might. Eric’s level breaths are short and deep. His strokes are more powerful than he even realizes. 

In a couple minutes he's dragging himself up the sand, body worn out and impossibly heavy. Gravity is a bitch. Adrenaline still races in his veins. Endorphins edge him on as he slowly picks himself up. He glances over to see the captain is still in the water. The young man beams, realizing what that means. 

'I... I won.'

He's finally won something. 

The way Eric's shock turns to complete elation is entirely worth the loss. The captain drags himself to shore. It takes a while, but he gets into a wobbly standing position regardless. He might’ve planned to let him win, but it wasn't by as much of a margin as it ended up being. 

"Impressive, lad! Ye beat me." 

Eric blushes, feeling very giddy. 

"Did you let me win?" 

Giving himself away, the captain scratches his arm. Busted. 

"No. Not really." 

Eric quickly deflates. Feeling guilty, the captain gets ready to blow his ego back up. 

"I was going ta let ye, but I didn't have to. Ye won, fair and square." 

It was a little fib, but it wasn't far off. The captain was extremely strong, but he wasn't that fast. His large body weighed him down immensely. Eric was quick as a whip compared to him. With time, he'd beat him by a mile. 

Air assaults his wet body, making Eric shiver. Both men towel off and change into dry, warm clothes as Eric relishes in his accomplishment. 

"Don't peek," Eric tells the captain while the other stands in all his naked glory attempting to put on pants. 

"’Tis nothin' I haven't seen before." 

Eric blushes, still not quite used to the nakedness. It's different in the heat of passion. Getting undressed without the thrill of sex is another thing entirely. 

He glances at his lover’s body and flushes harder. The captain loves distracting him. He takes his sweet time putting on clothes, tantalizing him. Eric turns as he puts on sweatpants, knowing that if he doesn't he'll just stare at the captain all night. 

Because of the sand, Eric doesn't hear the captain sneak up on him. But he definitely feels a hand slap across his bare ass. Caught off guard, he yelps, hands dropping the hem of the pants. They pool around his ankles as Eric frowns down at them. 

The captain laughs heartily, amused with himself. Eric tries to act angry as he bends to pick up his pants, but he honestly kind of liked it. 

The hand moves to his backside, fingers sliding over his ass cheek, tantalizing him. It's so distracting he almost drops his pants again. 

"Yer not gonna need those later," the captain coos into his ear. 

Eric gulps, body stirring. He turns around to see the captain is wearing a smirk and nothing else. 

Deciding he's teased his lover enough for now, the captain puts on clothes and lets Eric do the same. 

After a few minutes the captain flops down on the soft blanket, wooden legs stretching out comfortably. Once they're settled in he pours them both a hefty amount of red wine. He hands a glass to Eric, then they tink for good luck. 

Moments pass as they wander in their own heads, staring out over the sparkling water. Eric can't imagine how lovely it would be out there, in the middle of that vast sea, to be cuddled up on cold nights with the man beside him. To watch the stars as the boat sways like a cradle lulling them to sleep. Eric longs for that adventure. He craves the salty wind entering his lungs, to see the dolphins jumping around them, finding islands and treasure. The experiences would be beyond his imagination. 

He looks at the captain with utter awe and a stirring in his chest. This man has seen it all. He's done unimaginable things and somehow he's ended up next to him. Eric can't fathom why he would want to be here, in a boring western city where the only adventure you can have is filled with drama and Hollywood bullshit. Eric longs for an adventure of old. To hoist the anchor and charge into unknown territory with this man. He knows the captain is skeptical. He's seen so much tragedy. Eric has too. But a man can dream. And now that he knows the captain wants to be by Eric’s side in this world, he yearns to be by the captain in his. 

"We should go boating, just the two of us." Anxiety creeps in as Eric realizes he might be overstepping boundaries. "I- if you want." 

Holding his glass of wine, sprawled out on the old tartan blanket, looking warm and comfortable, the captain gives him a pleased look. He looks so domestic that Eric wants nothing more than to cuddle into him. 

"Like we did before?" 

Shivering at the memory, Eric instinctually looks over at the place where they could have drowned. If not for the man beside him, Eric’s lifeless body would be out there feeding the fish. It’s not a pleasant thought. 

"N- not quite." 

"On a proper ship?” suggests the captain, ears perking up. 

Eric nods. 

"Is that… is that okay?" 

"That would be fantastic!" he bellows, blatant excitement calming Eric’s severed nerves. 

The captain takes a sip of wine, humming in appreciation at the bold taste as he ponders. 

"But we'd need to rent a boat. Or find a way to buy one." 

Oh, right. Money. That was something neither of them had much of. You usually needed a job for that sort of thing. Or very rich parents. Eric knows the captain could sell his treasures for thousands, but he couldn't see the man parting with such artifacts. Honestly, Eric wouldn't want him to. They'd have to find another way. 

The captain snaps his fingers, accidentally making Eric jump. 

"Sorry. Didn't mean ta scare ye. We could ask Dark. He handles the finances. I bet his inheritance- or whatever it is we all live on- is vast. He could loan us the money, and we'd pay him back with whatever treasure we can find." 

"That's a great idea!" Eric beams. 

The captain grins back as Eric can barely hold in his excitement. The captain presses the bottom of his glass into the sand to keep it in place. Eric does the same, accidentally spilling a little. The sand soaks it right up. The men meet in the middle. Their arms wrap around each other as their smiles light up the beach. 

"Do ye really want ta spend all that time with me? The sea can be a treacherous foe." 

"I'm sure." 

He doesn't contemplate. He doesn't rethink. Eric doesn't regret his decision. All he wants is to go on an adventure with this man. It's like his entire life had been a sheltered disaster and he finally has the chance to  _ live _ . He's not about to miss that opportunity. 

The captain sees that spark in his eye; can sense his determination. The bigger man pulls him in for a kiss, growing passions obvious in his longing lips. Eric responds in full, letting his lover take control. The captain pulls Eric on top of him, arms holding him in place. Eric's hands wander over the captain's sides, roaming down to his upper legs. The captain cups Eric's ass, breath becoming quicker as arousal takes hold. They continue to kiss as they explore each other's bodies, no set destination in mind. 

A biting wind blows over them and halts all thoughts of making love on the beach. Eric rolls off of the captain, shivering as he goes. As much as they don’t want to pause, the men know they must. 

"Do you wanna go home?" asks Eric, deciding he’d rather be warm and dry before they get too far. 

"Aye, let's go."

The two pack up their picnic, the captain carrying the brunt of the share. They finish their glasses on the way back. It gives Eric a cushy, warm feeling. He decides he really likes wine. 

When they get back to the captain's bedroom, Eric enters first. They sit their belongings on the dresser then head quickly for the bed. The captain lies down first. Eric joins him, both taking off their prosthetics. Usually he lies next to the man, but after winning their race he's feeling a bit confident. He crawls on his hands and knees, straddling the captain before the other man can realize what's happening. The surprise on his lover’s face is priceless. 

Eyelids flutter, liking what he sees. Eric lifts off the captain's shirt with a little help. He kisses down his expansive chest until he gets to his waistband, not wasting any time. He takes it between his teeth and pulls. His teeth lose grip with too much resistance and the band snaps back onto the captain's abdomen. The captain roars with laughter while Eric embarrassingly plants his face in his navel. Thankfully he lifts his hips and Eric tries again, this time successful. 

He kisses his way down the captain's thighs then back up, stopping before his growing erection. The captain gulps at the close proximity. Eric starts at the base and kisses up the captain's shaft. When he gets to the head he licks his lips and kisses the tip. The captain makes a small, encouraging noise. Eric is about to go down on him when the captain sputters. 

"W- wait!" 

Eric halts, time freezing. He stops breathing for a moment. Anxiety finds its opening and swoops in. 

"Wh- what's wrong? What did I do? I- I- I'm sorry." 

All Eric’s confidence is suddenly ripped away. The captain scrubs a hand over his face, angry at himself for the unanticipated outburst. 

"Sorry, it's not yer fault. I just know if ye start that I won't want to stop. And I was wondering if you…" The captain gives him his full attention as Eric’s chest swims, loving the ferocity and determination behind those caramel eyes. "I was wondering if you'd like to fuck me." 

Taken off-guard, Eric blinks hard. 

"I… What?" 

For the life of him Eric can't understand why the captain looks so embarrassed. 

"I bought lube if ye wanted to… ye know." 

Eric practically salivates. The captain wanted Eric to fuck him. He wanted him to be inside of him, to join together in a way they haven't yet. Eric's excited mind goes fuzzy and warm. 

"I- I-" starts Eric, unable to form an actual sentence. 

His libido is making it impossible. Eric’s voice feels trapped inside himself, stuttering and shock making it almost unobtainable to express just how much he wants that. The captain takes it as a bad sign, emotions ravaging his insides. 

"Forget I said anything. It- it's fine, lad. Do whatever ye want to do ta me." 

The captain lies down flat, arms at his sides. He looks more like he's waiting for a doctor's exam. Eric frowns sadly down at him, hand bracing against his strong chest. Inside was an aching heart. 

"What?" asks the captain when Eric doesn’t speak, only gives him a saddened look instead. "Pathetic right?" 

The man had an expression of scarred over pain that's freshly been re-opened. Eric wonders who told him it was pathetic for him to want such a thing. Whoever it is he hopes they know they never deserved him. 

"Absolutely not. Don't- don't say that. I was just caught off guard. I want to fuck you." 

"Really?" 

The captain is skeptical yet hopeful. An eyebrow raises in askance. Eric crawls up his body and kisses him properly, trying his best to press feelings of love and acceptance inside him. He wants the man to know he'd do anything for him. That he'd try to satisfy him any way he wanted. 

The captain starts to smile into their kiss, calming under Eric’s ministrations. His arms grip Eric’s body and rolls them to their sides. The captain suddenly turns away from him. Jarred, Eric’s instantly scared he’s about to leave. Gladly the captain is just searching for something. He fishes into his discarded pants pocket and pulls out a little bottle of lube. The captain repositions himself, lying on his stomach, legs spread. Eric watches the display entirely enticed and achingly aroused. 

‘God, what a view.’ 

Gulping, Eric sandwiches himself between his legs, heart pounding for what they’re about to do. A nervous hand reaches out, squeezing and caressing his ass. The captain moans underneath Eric, encouraging him to go further. Eric puts some lube on his finger and plays with him the same way the captain always prepares him. 

“Is- is it okay if I… if I enter you?” asks Eric, heart pounding. 

The captain moans before he even finishes his sentence. Eric takes that as a good sign. 

His finger strokes between the captain's ass cheeks, wanting this so badly his cock is aching. It's so much different being on the giving end. He presses into the captain, testing the waters. The other man growls. Eric’s filled with warm satisfaction when his finger slides in easily. He gives the captain a look, the man glancing at him, slightly embarrassed. 

"I prepared myself earlier, before we left for the beach. Just in case." 

Imagining the captain spreading himself open thinking of Eric fucking him drives him mad. He starts to slide his finger in and out, pleased at the sensation and even more at how greedily the captain begs for more. Eric slips in another finger and the captain purrs. 

"Ye can fuck me. I'm ready for ye." 

Eric's pretty damn ready too. Just fucking the man with his fingers was more lewd and amazing that he could have imagined. 

Lubed up, he lines up the head of his cock to the man's entrance. This is it. His first time inside another man. Eric takes in a shuddering breath. He's thought about this moment for years. What it would be like inside someone. What their ass would feel like squeezing around his cock. 

Woozy just thinking about it, Eric has to steady himself. He glides the head over his entrance, accidentally teasing him. 

"Please," the captain begs under his weight. 

Eric doesn't want to disappoint. With a sharp breath, Eric pushes forward. His cock slides in, sensation overpowering him. He gasps and shudders as the captain is suddenly all around his shaft. He'd been prepared but he was still so god damn tight. Eric moans loud as he delves deeper inside, fingernails accidentally squeezing his shoulder. He watches his cock disappear inside the captain’s ass, the thought captivating him. 

His lover breathes deeply, body twitching. Eric gauges his face, making sure everything is okay. His mouth is parted in a way that can only be described as adorable. Eyelids are pressed softly shut as he breathes deeply. Eric watches his face as he pulls out and pushes back in. The captain moans, eyelids flickering. Eric feels a stir in his abdomen. He knows what the feeling is. It's the same one the captain was afraid to mention in the water. Gulping hard, Eric ignores it and starts to fuck him, slow and adoring. The captain is a mess beneath him, panting and moaning with want. 

"M- more," the captain begs, unraveling under him. 

Eric happily obliges. His hips thrust, cock fucking him harder and deeper. The captain's thick fingers grip the mattress. The bed starts to creak with the exertion. Neither cares. They’re too far gone. 

"Ngh," the captain chokes, body suddenly jerking. Eric wonders if he's hit his prostate. 

"Fuck!" pants the captain. "Yer cock feels so good." 

Eric's entire being fizzles. Breathing ragged, Eric starts losing control. The way the captain's ass grips his cock is driving him mad. He doesn't know how much longer he's going to last. Sweat beads on his forehead. His chest feels hot. Eric’s naked body drapes across his back, breathing hard as his mind swims. Hands wrap around under the captain’s arms, grabbing his shoulders from underneath. He grips his muscular body and pulls the captain back into him. His entire body is flush to his lover’s back as he fucks him harder. The sensation makes his body sing. 

"Uuhn," the captain moans, ass tensing around him. 

Eric can't hold on any longer. Gasping breaths huff against the captain's neck. Without thinking his teeth sink into his shoulder, biting as he comes. The captain shudders beneath him, moaning with clenched eyes. Eric spills his seed inside of him, screams reverberating against the captain's body. His hips sputter, waves hitting him from every angle. 

Chest heaving, Eric collapses on top of him. His lungs work too fast. Air is too sharp. He tries desperately to catch his breath as the afterglow assaults his mind. His muscles stutter with exertion. Eric's heart feels like it's about to burst with emotion. 

With a heaving breath he rolls off from the captain. He desperately tries to school himself knowing the captain needs release. He expects the captain to turn on his side; to start stroking his cock while he waits for Eric to come fully back to earth. 

The captain doesn't move. 

Panicking, Eric scours his lover’s expression. Confusion is all he feels. The captain is peering back at him, eyes foggy and utterly satisfied. Eric's heart flutters in his ribs. 

"Did you...?" 

The captain nods, a little embarrassed. Grunting, he turns toward Eric. His cock is flaccid, semen coating the bed underneath him. 

"Sorry." 

Chest filled with pride, Eric smiles tenderly. He had a way of making the captain come even when he was trying desperately not to. Eric thought it was extremely sweet. 

"'t's alright," he slurs, exhausted and extremely satisfied. 

The captain chuckles, still embarrassed but much less so. He grabs a handkerchief and cleans up what he can of the bed. They'll definitely have to wash their sheets. He throws the cloth with reckless abandon behind him, snuggling up to his lover instantly. Eric wants to talk but after the swim and the sex he's totally wrecked. 

"So..." the captain starts, voice off. "How was it?" 

With great effort, Eric's leaden eyelids open. The captain is staring back at him, nervously curious. Eric gives him a dopey smile that can't be controlled. 

" _ Amazing _ ," he coos. "You felt so damn good." 

"Good.” The captain lets out a happy sigh and relaxes around him. “I was worried ye wouldn't like it." 

"Why wouldn't I?" Eric implores, extremely curious. How could he not? He's wanted to fuck another man since he was a teenager. Why was the captain so opaque about this? 

Contemplating to himself, the captain chews at his lip. 

"I'm not sure I should tell ye." 

That sobers Eric up. He puts a hand on the captain's side, thumb stroking gently. 

"Why? Wh- what's wrong?" 

Thinking better of it, but speaking anyway, the captain explains. 

"I had a partner once. He said a big guy like me shouldn't like getting fucked. I- I guess it stayed with me." 

Eric wants to beat that man to a pulp. He presses their foreheads together and sighs. 

"Well, he was an idiot," Eric chides, much angrier than his lover is used to seeing him. 

The captain sighs happily, the sound warming Eric's insides. Tense muscles are soothed as he relaxes into Eric. 

"He was, actually." 

Their eyes lock. The captain looks so much smaller. His eyes sparkle with pain and that unsaid word again. Eric's stomach is kissed by butterflies as he peers at his lover. 

"Thank you," he utters, and Eric knows it's the most sincere thanks he's ever gotten. 

"You- You're welcome," Eric chokes out. 

He wants to tell the captain this emotion that's been overwhelming him lately. Looking deep into those roaring eyes just makes it worse. He's drowning inside them and wants nothing more. The captain would pull him out with a liferaft, protecting Eric from it all before he could. All of him would want to dive back in. 

"Goodnight, lad," the captain speaks before leaning in for a kiss. 

Eric melts into him, emotions swirling inside his neurons. Even though they had just made love, Eric still can’t believe he’s allowed to kiss him. He’s certain he’ll always be in disbelief that the other man cares about him too. 

"Goodnight, Captain. Sweet dreams." 

"Ye too. Don’t let the bedbugs bite." 

The captain tickles his side, making Eric squeal. He halts quickly, likely knowing full well that Eric would subject him to tickles too if he kept it up. 

Smiling shyly, Eric thinks back over their evening. Even though they had some rocky moments, Eric is forever thankful that they’re still together. Whatever happens between them he hopes they’ll always find a way to sort it out. Watching the other man close his eyes and relax against him, Eric has a feeling that they’ll be just fine. Eric sighs happily as he gradually falls asleep in the captain's protective arms. It would be okay. He didn't have to tell him yet. If the captain stays by his side then Eric has the rest of his life to show him how he feels. 

They have time. 


	11. Chapter 11

October sneaks up on them much too quickly. A sleepy Eric wakes in the morning and double-checks his phone. October tenth. 

‘Today’s the day.’ 

Stirring beside him, the captain starts coming back to the land of the living. His eyes blink open, smiling as soon as he sees Eric. 

“Good mornin’, birthday boy,” the captain coos. 

Beaming, Eric lets the man pull him in for a hug and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“Good morning.” 

“How old are ye now?”

“Twenty-six.” 

The captain whistles, eyes turning wistful. 

“Wow, I’m robbin’ the cradle.” 

Eric can’t help but giggle. 

“No, you’re not.” 

“Sometimes I forget yer still wet behind the ears.”

The captain tickles behind his ears, pretending to prove his point. 

“I’m- I’m not that young,” Eric urges through laughter. 

He tries to push him away, but just giggles harder from the tickling assault. The satisfied captain grins before stopping his torture. He pulls him close and kisses his forehead, sighing happily against him as they snuggle. 

“Perhaps not. But ye do make me feel like a young man again.” 

“I do?” Eric beams. 

The captain simply nods. Mind singing, Eric gives him a sappy look. Pleased, the captain’s arms wrap tighter around his lover, basking in their shared warmth. 

“What do ye wanna do today?” 

The captain is always up for anything. Eric finds it sweet, but he’s not that adventurous. He adores birthdays, but they’re just not the same since his family passed away. Back in the day they’d go to an apple farm and enjoy the crisp autumn air, eating caramel apples, petting all the cute animals, and taking hayrides. Eric loved Autumn back home. It just wasn’t the same in California. 

“I- I don’t know. What do _you_ wanna do?” 

“It’s yer day, laddie, not mine.”

Frowning, Eric contemplates his options. He’s not actually sure what fun activities they have around them. He almost never leaves the manor out of horror that he’ll actually have to socialize with other people. 

“We can do anything ye want,” the captain interjects, bringing Eric from his thoughts. 

Not wanting to disappoint, Eric decides he needs more time. 

“Why don’t we make breakfast and I- I’ll think about it?” 

“Alright,” the captain agrees after a beat, eyeing him up. 

The two men head to the kitchen, Eric’s thoughts running around rampant. He’d thought about what to do for days with no luck. He was happily content in their everyday life. If it was the same as every other normal day, Eric would still be ecstatic. 

Walking through the doorway, Eric notices Dark immediately. For some reason he seems nervous yet Eric can't imagine why. The man looks like he’s waiting for somebody: gaze moving slowly around the room, scanning for something or someone. When he chances a glance at Eric, he stands like a proper gentleman and saunters over. Eric eyes him suspiciously, heart starting to pound as though he's somehow gotten himself in trouble. He’s not afraid of Dark, per se, but he doesn’t exactly trust him either. 

“Ah, good morning, Eric.” 

“Um. Good morning.” 

Dark procures a fairly small, wrapped package and extends it to Eric. The nervous man takes it like it might spontaneously blow up. The captain watches the interaction carefully. 

“Happy Birthday,” Dark congratulates with a small smile. 

He nods at the captain before heading down the hallway, lithe body shrouded in a black mist. Both men watch him disappear then peer at each other. 

Excited yet nervous, Eric opens the small white package. It’s wrapped near perfectly with a thin blue ribbon. Eric almost has a heart attack when he peeks inside. He slams the box closed as emotions catch up to him, bubbling in his empty stomach. 

“How did he…?” a shocked Eric utters mostly to himself. 

Curious, the captain takes the box. He opens it, not nearly as exasperated at the contents. 

“What is it?”

“It’s my favorite book.” 

Jealousy flashes across the captain’s rough features. 

“How does he know what yer favorite book is?” 

Eric shakes his head slowly, reality creeping back in. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

He’s never told the man such a thing. Sure, they’ve had discussions about books before. Dark was a big fan himself. But he’s sure he’d remember such a conversation. This mysterious knowledge, akin to Dark’s name, is exactly why Eric doesn’t quite trust him. 

Opening the box again, Eric can’t believe what he’s seeing. He takes the old book out of its confines with immense care. He’s sure he’s losing his mind, because it looks almost like a first edition. It’s at least a hundred years old. Eric’s certain this isn’t one from Dark’s impressive collection. He definitely would have noticed. He runs a cautious hand over the cover, face lighting up. 

“Frankenstein, eh? I’ve never read that one,” the captain admits casually beside him. 

“Y- you haven’t?” Eric balks in surprise. “It’s not that much older than you.” 

“Aye, but I’m not a great reader, remember?”

The captain looks sheepish, turning back toward breakfast. Eric didn’t mean to offend the man. He knows the other is embarrassed about his reading level. At first Eric just stands there awkwardly, then a brilliant idea pops into his head as he watches his lover work. 

“I can read it to you!” 

It wouldn’t be the first book they’ve read together, but it would definitely be the most important.

The captain turns, mixing bowl in hand, starting to make them waffles. His frown melts when he notices Eric’s grin. 

“Is that what ye wanna do today, lad?” 

Eric nods happily, all thoughts focusing on the artifact in his hands. The captain beams at the man, eyes telling a fondness too strong to contain. Eric doesn’t notice. He’s too wrapped up in the smell of old paper and excellent craftsmanship. His thoughts turn to warm cups of tea, snuggling up under the covers and drinking in the story of old. 

After breakfast Eric rushes them back to their now shared room, book in one hand, the captain in the other. Happy to be manhandled, the captain lets Eric lead him. 

They settle under the covers, Eric holding the book like it could shatter into a hundred pieces at any moment. 

“’ _You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings_ ,’” starts Eric, foretelling words already transcending him to a far-off land. 

He reads through the first letter then nervously asks the man what he thinks. The captain is happy the book begins on the vast ocean. The idea of it reels him in. Relieved, Eric is glad he seems to be enjoying it so far. 

Eric gets to Letter Four fairly quickly. When he reads the date August thirteenth he’s a bit taken aback. 

“That’s the date we met,” the captain says aloud, reading his mind. 

“What are the chances?” Eric says with a gulp. 

In a couple days it would be two months since they’d first set eyes on each other. Eric couldn’t believe it. Now they were snuggled up on his birthday reading his favorite book. Everything had happened so fast. Time surely can change everything. 

The captain leans against the headboard, propped up with pillows, and lets the words wash over him. They read for hours. Eric has to take breaks to drink, but he goes right back at it. They get about halfway done when Eric realizes his voice is dying. Careful hands set the book gingerly in the nightstand drawer for safekeeping. 

“Are ye hungry?” the captain implores. 

“Uh huh. Are you?” 

“Aye. Wait here.”

Eric blinks hard. 

“Wh- why?” 

With a grunt the captain stands, stretching a bit before answering. He turns with a cheeky grin. 

“You’ll see.” 

The captain exits their room, leaving Eric with a million possibilities swarming like bees around his head. When his lover is gone for over twenty minutes, Eric starts to worry. Not long after the large man comes ducking under the doorframe. 

“Alright, come with me,” he says, extending a hand. 

Eric stands and takes it, going on whatever small or large adventure the captain has in mind. The man leads him down the hallway and toward the living room. It’s uncharacteristically dark in the house. Eric doesn’t like it. He knows the captain wouldn’t hurt him, but something seems off. Eric goes to explain his fears when the lights flick on. Bing shoots up in the air screaming. The Jim twins do the same a beat later, all yelling: 

“Surprise!” 

Eric jumps, hand gripping the captain’s hand. The man grins fondly down at him, chuckling at the strong reaction. 

“Sorry, I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare,” explains the captain. “They’re the only ones I could find.” 

Eric thinks that’s fine. There aren’t any decorations or cake or anything remotely birthday related. Just three egos jumping out from behind a couch. But Eric will take the kind gesture. It makes his heart swell with happiness knowing that anyone cared enough to do this for him. No one ever had before. 

“It’s very sweet, thank you.”

“I texted the other egos and just ordered pizza,” Bing tells him. “I got cheese cuz I don’t know what ya like.” 

“Th- that’s fine, thank you.” 

“Sweet. What do you wanna do?” asks Bing, bouncing on his heels, excited to be invited. 

“Let’s play truth or dare,” interjects Reporter Jim. 

“That’s stupid,” his twin scoffs at him. “Let’s bob for apples.”

“We don’t have apples,” his brother chides, the two in their own little world as they playfully bicker. 

Bing smiles at them before walking up to Eric. He extends his fist with an air of confidence Eric wishes he had. Not sure what he wants, Eric cautiously fist bumps him. The android grins, so Eric figures he’s guessed correctly. 

“Happy Birthday, dude. I didn’t get ya anything. Sorry.” 

“That’s okay.” 

Eric hears footsteps behind him and a sound of tinkling glass. He turns to see Wilford is walking in, arms full to bursting with liquor bottles. Eric’s eyes grow large, mouth parting slightly. Wilford sees and makes a face at him. 

“What? It’s not a party if you’re not drunk.” 

“You’ll give us all alcohol poisoning, Will,” Dark chides behind him, holding one bottle of champagne. Eric figures that’s his way of “helping.” 

“So?” says an uncaring Wilford. 

Eric watches the pink-haired man attempt to put the bottles down on the coffee table. Before Eric can walk over to help, the captain does so. 

Still surprised by the sudden turnout, Eric looks around the room which is starting to fill with egos. 

Doctor Iplier, Bim, and Host walk in one after another having a conversation that obviously distresses the doctor. 

Illinois is somewhere in Central America tracking down a lead for his latest adventure, so he sadly can’t make it. 

Yancy strolls in and looks almost as nervous as Eric. He notices the birthday boy and walks over. Eric stands stock still, almost as though if he doesn’t move, he’ll walk right past. It reminds Eric of that one iconic scene in Jurassic Park and Yancy is the big, terrifying T-rex. 

“Hey, I heard it was youses birthday.” 

Eric nods, not sure what else to say. Yancy awkwardly pats him on the shoulder, attempting a smile though it’s quite strained. 

“Well, happy birthday,” the other awkward man says, then walks away without another word. 

A confused Eric watches the former prisoner, realizing that he’s lost much of his hardass attitude as soon as Illinois and the captain weren’t around. Impressed, Eric watches Yancy pick up a pint of vodka and start drinking straight from the bottle. Dark grabs it out of his hands with a pissed expression, glitching as he seethes. 

“We’re not animals,” Dark scolds. 

Yancy shrugs, snags the bottle back, and takes a sip while walking toward the Jim’s who are still fondly arguing. Dark looks far from happy with the interaction. 

The captain breaks Eric from his reverie by handing him a full glass of champagne, holding one for himself. Eric looks around as Dark, Wilford, and Bing hand the other egos their own. Everyone takes a glass except for the prisoner. Yancy makes a disgusted face at the offered drink, shaking his bottle of vodka. 

“I’m good, thanks.” 

Wilford gives him a “suit yourself” shrug then turns toward Eric. He puts his glass in the air for a small toast. 

“To Eric. Happy birthday, kiddo.”

Wilford takes a swig, the other egos following suit. Blushing furiously, Eric takes a sip. He doesn’t know what Yancy has against the stuff. It’s very flavorful. And it tastes expensive. 

Apparently no longer fighting over games, the Jim’s turn on some music. They lightly bicker about what genre is best. Eventually they just pull up a random Spotify party playlist which neither is happy about. 

Google joins the party by strolling in unamused, making bizarre whirring noises. Cold, blue eyes snap to Eric. The man physically jumps, terrified at how jarring the android could be. 

“Happy Birthday,” the creepy ego tells him, monotone and standing awkwardly still in front of him. Eric isn’t sure Google actually knows what happy is. 

“Uh, th- thanks.” 

Google flashes him a sinister smile, turning away to talk to Bing. Or, more likely, berate him. Eric watches the two androids have a conversation in the corner, Bing starting with a smile as he sees Google, it quickly turning upside down. Both are all machine, Eric realizes, each with a complex set of emotions. In many ways, they’re just like humans. Eric’s mind turns to the book, recalling the unfortunate reality of the monster. He feels Shelley would have some form of sad pride in knowing she realized the future.

In a few minutes their doorbell rings, a few of the egos glancing toward the front door. Bing and Google take off. They come back with several boxes of pizza and breadsticks piled on top. Everyone grabs some grub and sits down or stands around talking amongst each other. Not that social of a person, but enjoying the company regardless, Eric decides to sit down. 

“How are the new prosthetics treating you?” asks Doctor Iplier, sitting beside him and nursing a beer. 

Since he’s had them for several months now, Eric figures it’s just a segue into a conversation.

“Oh, they’re, um, they’re pretty good.” 

Nodding, the doctor looks around at the other egos. His foot taps to the beat of the music. 

“How are you two doing?” he asks, looking at the captain. The other man is grabbing them both some pizza. 

“Really well,” Eric admits, megawatt smile beaming. 

The doctor glances between the two, a slow smile spreading across his face. 

“That’s good to hear.” The doctor makes a pained noise as he stretches, sore from work. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks.” 

“Here ye are,” the captain says, handing Eric a plate. 

He thanks him then takes a big bite. Eric can’t remember the last time they’d had pizza at the manor. He’d have to thank Bing for ordering it. 

The captain sits down on the other side of him, Eric slightly scrunched between the two men. 

“So, Captain, how are you?” asks the doctor, never quite able to metaphorically take off his stethoscope. 

Eric vaguely wonders if he ever gets tired of asking people how they’re doing. Does anyone ever ask doctor’s how they’re doing? 

“Great,” the captain beams, leaning against Eric. “How are ye, lad?” 

Eric’s face burns hot at the nickname as he realizes the captain isn’t addressing him. 

‘Lad?’ 

He knows it’s not specific to him, but he’s never heard the captain call anyone else that before. Eric would be lying if it didn’t make him immensely jealous. 

“I’m alright. It was a long day at the office.” 

Eric listens to the two men talk amongst themselves, him stuck between them. It’s like he doesn’t even exist. His body slumps as he stares at his pizza. The captain puts a hand on his outer thigh, pulling Eric back from his internal struggle. 

“Did ye hear that, lad?” 

Eric can’t help the relieved satisfaction spreading as he gets his nickname back. Though he knows neither of them meant to exclude him in their conversation, Eric is still envious. He's never quite understood what the captain sees in him, and he's always afraid that one day he'll realize he's not good enough for him. 

“Uh, w- what?” Eric says, embarrassed he hasn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention. 

The captain chuckles fondly at him, eyes creasing as he smiles. His expression calms most of his fears, though a nagging voice in the echoes of his mind tell him to remain cautious. 

“I asked if you two had any plans for Thanksgiving,” explains Doctor Iplier. 

Solemn, Eric shakes his head. 

“No, I- I don’t have a family to celebrate with anymore.”

The doctor inspects him sadly. 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

In return Eric gives him a sorrowful smile. The doctor turns a hopeful glance to the other man. 

“What about you, Captain?”

The captain shakes his head. 

“Same as him, I’m afraid.”

The doctor inhales then exhales sharply. 

“Ah. I see. Well, if you’d like, my ex has the kids this year, so I was thinking of celebrating Thanksgiving here. We’ve always gone our separate ways, but I thought it would be nice to have the festivities together. We’re starting to become a large group.”

Excitement fills Eric with the thought as he looks around at all the other egos having fun. It wouldn’t be the same as years prior with his brothers and mother, but it was something. Eric supposes they are a sort of family in their own bizarre way. The thought pushes the rest of his worries away.

“That- that’s a great idea, Doctor,” Eric gushes. 

The doctor can’t help but smile, though there’s a sadness buried deep below. 

“Wonderful! I’ve already discussed it with Dark. Captain, if you wouldn’t mind preparing the meal, we would all be honored.”

The captain beams, chest puffing with pride. 

“I’d love to.”

“Excellent,” the doctor says with a smile, then decides to stand. “Well, have a good evening.”

The captain nods once while Eric simply smiles back. Thanksgiving with the egos. It sounded like a wonderful disaster. Eric is delighted. 

“How are ye doin’?” asks the captain, leaning toward his ear to be better heard over the music and chattering surrounding them. 

“Good.”

“Is it alright I asked them to throw ye a little party?” 

Eric can’t help the warmth in his chest as the captain nervously asks. 

“It’s lovely, thank you.” 

Eric leans into his lover, music and voices all around them. He lets his mind linger on the feeling, wanting to bottle it up and recall it later. 

He watches as Wilford, drink in hand, starts to dance. His partner watches him, trying not to look intrigued. He fails. Wilford motions for Dark to join him on the makeshift dance floor, which is just the living room floor with the furniture pushed out of the way. Dark shakes his head, perfectly content sipping his champagne and watching the others enjoy themselves.

Not taking no for an answer, Wilford walks over to Dark, takes him by the hand and pulls. Sighing, Dark allows himself to be hauled into a standing position. He follows Wilford out to the middle of the floor. Bing and the Jim’s have followed Wilford’s lead and have started to dance in ways Eric's never seen before. If you could even call it dancing. Regardless, they’re laughing and having fun, so Eric is happy.

Begrudgingly, Dark begins to move to the music. It’s forced and he’s obviously not comfortable, but Eric sees the happiness start to seep into his eyes. The way he watches Wilford effortlessly let go and move whatever way he wants is a sight to behold. 

Eric wants that. All those years of knowing each other. Having the other do something they’re afraid to do and having fun despite themselves. Someone to go on adventures with. Eric wants a partner. He wants a title to what they have. 

“Captain?” Eric asks, fingers gripping the champagne stem so tight he’s scared it will snap. 

“Aye?” he asks, turning toward him. 

Eric notices the light in his eyes. There’s an unmistakable warmth on that rugged face while he watches him. In the time he's known him he's seen that the captain's never looked at anyone else the same way. When he interacted with everybody else he was cautious and a little rough around the edges. With Eric he was always different. Somehow Eric brought a soft and gentle side to the man that no one else seemed to. He's never understood why, but he loves it. 

Eric’s terrified and exhilarated, but knows he wants this more than anything. As soon as it leaves his lips, he’ll never be able to take this question back. Honestly, he doesn’t want to. 

Taking a deeply shuddering breath, Eric grasps the captain’s hand in his and squeezes. 

“Will…will you be my boyfriend?” 

The happiness that blossoms on the captain’s face steals the air from Eric’s lungs. 

“I would be honored,” he answers, expression so fond Eric could fall to his knees. 

Eyes sparkling, the captain pulls him in for a kiss. Eric can barely kiss back, his smile is so large it can’t be contained. 

The rest of the night Eric walks around with his boyfriend, hand in hand, talking to the other egos. He’s had enough champagne to take the edge off, usual social anxiety dulled to a manageable point. 

When everyone is thoroughly exhausted the two head back to their bedroom. They walk arm in arm, a little tipsy and delighted at how well the evening turned out. 

“Are ye havin’ a good birthday?” asks the captain while unbuttoning his shirt. 

Beaming, Eric takes his shirt and tries pulling his boyfriend down to his level. The captain gets the idea and bends as Eric leans up and kisses him slow and wantonly. He leans back, bodies no longer touching yet there’s an electricity between them still. Contentment spreads through Eric’s chest as they pull apart and continue getting undressed.

“I did. Thank you.” 

“It’s not over yet,” urges the captain. 

“But it’s after midnight.” 

The captain’s eyes get low as he ignores the technicalities.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Confused, Eric simply watches him. 

“I have a present for ye.”

Eric had only told the captain the day before that it was his birthday. How would he have found him a gift in that time? Though he did orchestrate a makeshift party in twenty minutes, so Eric can’t quite be sure what he’s capable of. 

“You do?” 

The captain undoes his pants, lifts his eyebrows, and smirks knowingly at him. 

“I didn’t have a chance to get ye a real present, but ye can have me.”

“O- oh,” Eric blurts out, eyes raking over his undressing boyfriend. 

As they make love that night Eric swears he’s full to bursting. He’s never had birthday sex before, but he decides it’s definitely his favorite. Having the captain naked and writhing under him, panting and moaning his name, is pure bliss. 

He can’t imagine being any happier as they lie in bed, holding each other in the afterglow. What they have is finally official. Eric revels in the warmth of his partner as they lie there panting from exertion. Sweat beads on his brow as his heart pounds, not only from sex. 

"How did ye like yer present?" 

"It was amazing." 

Eric snuggles closer to his lover as the captain watches him fondly. No mere words can describe the emotions coursing through his buzzing body. When he glances at the captain, satisfied and grinning happily, Eric's entire being hums. This is all he’s ever wanted. He thinks about how crazy and eventful the last two months of his life have been. How the captain rushed into his life and literally swept him off his feet. If he could make the world a fair place, they would be in this protective rosy bubble for the rest of their days. Eric wishes this feeling could last forever. 

A bitter cold sensation in his chest, where his pendant lies against his bare skin, breaks him from the afterglow. Eric isn't sure what it is. All he knows is that he doesn't like it.

He grips his boyfriend a little tighter, afraid to let go, because cruel fate could take this away in an instant. Anxieties start to creep in, whispering that what they have won't last. Eric tries to fight them away, but they keep bombarding his mind with overwhelming fear and doubts. The captain feels his mood change and holds him tighter, hand stroking his back to ease his battling mind. It doesn't help. Even with his boyfriend’s reassurances and the obvious care and concern in his eyes, Eric can’t shake the feeling. No matter how unlikely it is, Eric is terrified that the world will rip this happiness away from him too. Just like his mother. Just like his brothers. Just like everything else in his once miserable life. The mortified man clings to the captain, hoping that his fears will never come true.

When he’s finally able to sleep after hours of internal torment, it’s far from restful. Neither the captain nor the pendant can save him from his own demons. That night all Eric has are nightmares. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter was my favorite one to write. You'll see why.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favorite chapter to write. You'll see why.

A few blissful weeks later, Yancy comes up to them during lunch, chewing an apple and feigning an uncaring demeanor.

"So, how's about that rematch?"

Eric watches his boyfriend in wonder. The captain smirks up at the cocky man before standing tall, barreling over him. The former prisoner can't help but gulp.

"Yer on, kid."

The captain glances at Eric who gives him a look that says: 'Go ahead.'

The men walk into the basement, the couple holding hands as they descend the elegant staircase.

Yancy and the captain set up the balls and grab cue sticks, preparing to beat each other into a pulp. Other egos start to flow into the room after overhearing the conversation in the dining room.

Letting them have their dick measuring contest, Eric takes a seat in a comfortable chair a few feet away and simply watches.

“You’d better batten down the hatches,” the captain remarks with a cocky smirk.

“What’s that mean?” asks Yancy. 

“Yer about to enter rough seas,” he explains in a sort of growl.

Eric smiles at the ferocity the captain exudes. He’s proud of the man before him, so confident and cool. He can't help it. Eric’s beyond honored this man is his.

Illinois sits with a calm air in the chair beside him. The explorer glances at him and smiles, nudging him with an elbow.

"So, I heard you two started dating."

"Oh," Eric says surprised. He hasn't seen the man much since the first billiard match. A lot has happened since then. "Uh, yeah, we did."

The explorer claps him on the back.

"I thought I sensed something between you two. Congratulations."

Eric embarrassedly looks at the other ego. He'll never get over this. That other people actually care about his happiness.

"Th- thanks."

Eric glances at Bing who overhears their conversation. He goes for a fist bump which Eric obliges in. The android smiles, eyes covered by his glasses.

Google glances at him, words forming never to be said because a cold, dead hand suddenly grips Eric's shoulder.

"May I talk to you?" asks a sinister voice.

Eric stutters, glancing back at Dark who’s standing much too close. The greyscale being stares unabashed at Eric's chest. Dark is gaping at the top undone buttons like he wants to rip off his shirt. It's making Eric sweaty and extremely uncomfortable. 

He looks at the other egos who are just as bewildered as he is. Eric's entirely too nervous to breathe.

'Is... is he coming on to me?'

"Come with me," beckons Dark with a hand.

Eric isn't remotely interested, but Dark turns on his heel and leaves, expecting Eric to obediently follow. He does so, chancing a glance at the captain. His boyfriend is too busy besting Yancy's ass to notice. Something inside him screams this is a bad idea.

He follows like a child in trouble to Dark's principal office. The older ego shuts and locks the door. The older man turns toward him, apparently unamused.

Fear rising, Eric backs away, wanting to keep a safe distance. His steps lead him backward until something sharp digs into his upper legs. It’s Dark's desk.

Trapped, Eric stands there as Dark walks up. There’s a quiet ferocity in his steps. It scares the shit out of Eric. Panic starts to devour him.

Standing before the younger man, Dark motions toward his chest.

"Take off your shirt," he orders.

Eric stutters, wondering if he's entered an alternate reality somehow.

"W- what?"

"Take it off," repeats the ego, growing angry from having to repeat himself.

"Y- you can't be serious."

For Christ's sake, Dark was in a relationship. Apparently a fairly serious one at that. What would Wilford think? Or worse, the captain?

Gulping, Eric puts a hand over his talisman to protect himself, scared to speak. Dark's having none of it. He takes a menacing step forward, hand reaching for Eric. Horrified, Eric whimpers. His eyes glance at the other set of doors on the other side of the room. Can he make it in time? Call for someone to help him? Will anyone hear? Most of the egos are at work or watching the match downstairs. No one will hear him scream.

"Eric, take it off or I'll do it for you."

Eric looks mortified at the door, wondering if he should chance it. Was Dark really going to ask him to do such a thing? His heart pounds wildly against his aching ribs. He’s trapped. Now Eric _definitely_ starts to panic.

"Please," Eric begs instead, barely able to breathe. "I d- don't want this. Don't make me do this. I- I don't feel that way about you."

Eyes sharp, Dark sees his absolute horror. Something finally clicks.

"Oh, you think-" Dark takes a step back, realizing the position he's put the younger man in. "Christ, no, I wouldn't do that to you, Eric."

Sighing, Dark chides himself, running a hand through his hair.

"My apologies. I'm not coming onto you, I assure you."

Eric doesn't feel very assured.

"I feel a growing occult presence around you. I saw a glimpse of your necklace again today. If you're going to have something demonic or Wiccan or what have you, then I need to know what it is. I don't want anything dangerous like that in this house again."

He faintly wonders what "again" means.

Sighing, Eric's fears relax. That was so much better.

"You don't have to take off your shirt, I suppose, just your necklace."

Somehow Eric was even more uncomfortable with that thought. He shakes his head slowly and unbuttons his shirt.

"I'd rather not take it off. It- it's important to me."

Dark smiles slightly, watching the buttons pop out of their rightful holes. When the artifact glares at him, Dark ponders it with a scientific curiosity. He carefully takes the amulet in his hand. It zaps him with a sea green energy that makes them both jump.

"God dammit!" Dark curses, shaking his hand in pain. It makes his gray hand momentarily glow a sickly seafoam. Anger flashing across his face, he glares at his limb in disgust.

He bends down and leans forward, not about to let this amulet best him. Delicate, cautious hands go to either side of the pendant, careful not to touch it. Dark’s eyes close in concentration as Eric watches him. The nervous man isn’t quite sure what he's doing.

The pendant starts to glow a disgusting aqua color that can't be described. It just looks off. Like it wasn't a color that was meant to exist. Eric swears he can hear the pendant screaming.

Chest heaving, Eric watches the man before him. He's much too close and not in a way Eric's comfortable with. All he wants is to go back to safety beside the captain.

Eric is about to tell Dark so when the doors he thought of escaping out of are suddenly being opened. Eric jumps, grabbing Dark’s shoulders and pushing him away without thinking. Horrified eyes flash as the man starts to tip backward. Scared of hurting him, Eric grabs his tie and pulls. Jerked forward, both of Dark’s hands fall on Eric's chest to catch himself, his weight pushing Eric painfully into the desk. Dark ends up partially on top of him, pissed that his concentration is broken.

A hand grips the antique door handle, body frozen. They're no longer alone. The ego that stares back at them is Wilford.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Dark's eyes shoot to the door. His mouth hangs stupidly, no words escaping.

Wilford watches the scene before him not believing what he sees. Eric's chest is exposed, his partner practically on top of him. Eric knows what it must look like: him shirtless, backed against Dark's desk, the man's hands on his chest and Eric entirely out of breath.

Both look guiltily his way even though they've done nothing wrong.

Disgusted, Wilford sees what he thinks is happening and storms out of the room. The door slams so hard Eric swears it's broken.

Growling, Dark chases after him.

"William! It's not what it looks like!"

Eric's head spins. Heavy legs step uncertainly. Mind falling ever further to certain death, Eric chases them both, panic seizing his heart.

They lose the ego with his damn transporting powers, but Dark must sense where he's going. And Eric doesn't like the destination.

“Oh god. Oh no. He's- he's gonna tell the captain. He's gonna think I was-"

They run back to the billiard room together desperately. The match has since ended. Everyone is standing dumbfounded. Almost all eyes shoot to the two men running into the room, panting and looking haggard like they’d been caught.

The world crumbles around Eric, burying him under debris once again. His legs ache.

'No. Please, no.'

Eric sees someone talking to the captain. He already knows it's Wilford. Eric wanted to explain the situation before Wilford got a chance. But he was too late.

The captain looks at him with such confusion in his eyes. He can't believe what Wilford's saying. That his boyfriend could have snuck off while he was distracted. It's not possible.

Then the captain's eyes fall upon his chest and it's all over. Eric knows he's fucked up.

Hands quivering, he quickly buttons his shirt back up, but the motion is too telling. Too guilty.

Hatred spits from the captain's body like licking fire scorching Eric's flesh. He can read the captain's pain all too well.

Suddenly a very contrasting cold, the captain turns to leave. There are no words. No screaming. No discussion. Eric can't stand it.

"Wait, please, it- it's not what you think!" 

The captain whips around, seething in pain. Tears well in his eyes. His face is contorted in agony. 

Eric wants to rip his own hair out and scream until he dies. His soul is burning.

With an anger that Eric's never even seen in his father, he sees the captain lurch forward as he catches sight of Dark. The gargantuan ego surges at him with such intensity Dark actually takes a step backwards. For good reason, too. With ease he grips Dark's shirt collar, lifting him in the air.

"Please, I- I can explain," Dark begs, looking scared for the first time since Eric's known him. Terrified eyes shoot around the room, looking for help and finding none.

Dark’s helpless legs dangle in the air.

"No need you fucking bastard. I trusted you!"

The captain's other hand rears back and a fist goes flying at Dark's face. The man has no time to react and nowhere to go. The fist connects, sending Dark careening backwards. The sound of an already broken neck snapping fills the cramped room. With a thud Dark careens onto the billiard table. His arm and legs sling over the side.

He doesn't move.

Dark's motionless body lays sprawled out on the green fabric.

He’s dead.

Eric starts to truly panic. The world pulsates around him. Flashes of wreckage invade his vision. Someone's screaming his name. There's blood and pain and-

Eric almost throws up.

Dark can’t be dead. He just can’t.

Groaning in pain, Dark eventually looks mortified up at the man that would have killed him if he had technically still been alive. The captain's barrel of a chest heaves, fists still clenched. He's snarling as electricity shoots out from his body.

Eric is relieved, but only momentarily.

"So that's why ye didn't want us together. I knew it. Ye wanted him all to yerself, didn't ye? Well, congratulations, ye can have him now!"

Betrayed eyes flash to Eric. Anger. Sadness. Loss. They form a terrible monster in the captain’s features.

Eric knows then.

He's lost him forever.

The captain doesn't say another word, just storms off as far away as possible. His tree stump limbs almost break the concrete beneath him.

Seeing his now former lover leave him behind, panic seizes him fully. He falls to the floor in sobs, hands balled up on the carpet. Tears turn the ashy brown an even darker color. Eric’s lungs struggle to breathe. His heart aches the further the captain walks away.

Eric wishes he was dead.

There's nothing left now.

He has no one.

He's alone.

Again.

Equally betrayed, Wilford glares at Dark on the table with such disgust he could burst into flames.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, but I’ve never cheated on you, Damien. Not once.” Wilford watches his former lover lie in agony, his eyes grey, voice cold. "After all these years you're really gonna throw it all away on a fling?"

Dark stutters, attempting to get up. Wincing in pain, he tries to speak, but all he can do is cough. By time he does, Wilford is walking away. Limping, Dark chases after him. His leg is broken.

"William, wait! Please."

It won't do him any good.

Eric doesn't notice the way the other egos look at him, some confused, others disgusted. They start to leave, awkwardness filling the room. It’s toxic.

Everyone abandons him except for Illinois. The newer ego watches him with pity. Sighing sadly, he walks over and sits next to the sobbing mess on the floor.

Taking off his hat, Illinois plays with it for something to do. He waits patiently for the other man to calm down enough to speak. The broken man lies there bawling until there's no more tears left.

When Eric can finally breathe normally again, Illinois helps him up. The man assists him silently to his lonely bedroom. It feels like the walk of shame he was to have supposedly taken. Yet his heart had never strayed. If he could just get the captain to see the truth. That he was the only one he wanted. Maybe they'd have a chance. 

Shattered, Eric sits down on his bed, growling to himself. It was a pipe dream and he knew it.

Illinois stands in the doorway with a sorrowful frown, watching Eric take off his prosthetics and throw them to the ground, not caring where they land.

"Did you do it?"

Tired, Eric shakes his head, barely able to lift it at all.

Illinois sighs, hands resting on his hips.

"I didn't think you would. Not with the way you look at him."

"I wish the captain w- would just..."

Eric isn't sure what he wants the captain to have done. Believe him? How? When someone tells you they saw your boyfriend cheat on you with their partner, you tend to believe them.

Defeated, Eric curls into himself on his bed, staring at his hands as they ring together in his lap. Illinois gives him a knowing look, aware it's time to take his leave.

"I hope he comes around. If not, I'll have a talk with him and see what I can do, alright?"

"Thank you," says his meek voice.

Illinois nods once then turns to leave, shutting the door behind him.

"Good luck," he calls behind him, then he's gone.

Eric is alone.

Exposed nerves sparking and searing his heart, Eric starts to sob again. Lungs falter painfully as his chest heaves. Eric falls onto the bed, staring unblinkingly at his dresser. He doesn't move for hours, just stares forward. Cold. Hungry. Thirsty. Denying himself basic necessities. 

Looking into the void that is his life, Eric's mind snaps to the ocean. As a black hole opens up and tries to suck him in, he wonders what drowning truly feels like. He fantasizes about the burning water filling his lungs, the sea swallowing him whole. He gasps in for air but none comes, only water. Everything is water.

His limbs flail helplessly, hand reaching up for help. He sees the captain staring down at him. All love is gone from his eyes. Eric's lucky he doesn't have the strength to move, because he's afraid he might go actually see what drowning feels like. 

Eric grips his hair and pulls until the pain becomes overbearing. Illinois' words ring in his ears, muffled by the rushing water.

Luck.

Right.

He's going to need it.

Xxoxx

Being in his own bed is beyond bizarre. Being in a bed at _all_ without the captain is uncomfortable. His room is too cold and too simple and too _him_. Everything about him is disgusting. It's probably a good thing the captain was done with him. It was bound to happen anyway. Better now while their relationship was still fresh.

As much as he believes his inner demons, his heart yearns for yesterdays.

Eric tosses and turns, searching for sleep but unable to find it. Instead, he tries desperately to process what happened; to find a way to show the captain that everything was a big misunderstanding. That there were no feelings between Dark and him besides friendship.

The desperate young man dismantles his brain to no avail. There's nothing there. Just the overwhelming want to hurt himself.

Sighing, Eric struggles for his prosthetics strewn about his bedroom carpet. After a frustratingly long time, he puts them on and decides to leave his room. No use lying down and moping. If he could walk away maybe it would help him think. And if he was lucky, he would come back alive.

He casually glances at his phone. It's already midnight. Hours had passed in minutes.

Eric slips on a sweater and sweatpants before walking out his door. There’s no reason to lock it. He didn't much care anymore.

With a spark of fear, Eric glances across the hall at Dark's office. Angry at the cruel irony, he remembers it's the room dividing Wilford and Dark's bedrooms. How fitting.

Not wanting to see either man right now, Eric hurries onward.

Lonely steps pad through the corridor and across the living room he rarely ever uses. Uncertain steps lead him out the front door.

Eric is expecting solitude, but there's some sort of scraping noise as soon as he steps outside. He peers out nervously, but it's only Bing practicing on his skateboard.

Happy to see an ego not involved in the scandal, Eric steps into the chilling November night. Bing glances up at him, glasses gone. Those glowing yellow eyes stare back at Eric like a cat lurking in the night. It makes Eric shiver.

"Oh. Hey," the android says casually.

"Hey," Eric answers back.

Bing continues to skate leisurely back and forth, gaze never leaving Eric's. It's unnerving.

"So, uh, you okay, dude?"

Eric shakes his head. He sits on the front steps and watches Bing, wondering if the search engine had answers. It couldn’t hurt to try. 

"Hey, Bing?"

“Sup?"

"What's the cure for a broken heart?"

The android must see how shattered he is, because he stops skating. He kicks his skateboard into his hand and looks uncomfortably at Eric before sauntering over. The ego sits beside Eric on the front steps, skateboard in hand. It's banged up and missing some paint, nicked and chipped in several places. Eric understands that feeling.

"IDK, man. You'd have to ask Google."

Eric frowns toward the starry sky. It was a beautiful crisp night. The captain would have loved it out here.

Sad thoughts scrape against his lungs. The captain. Where did he storm off to? Is he even in the manor anymore? Eric shivers, afraid to know the answer.

Beside him Bing lounges and waits. He knows Eric wants to talk and is happy -though uncomfortable- letting him.

Eric's never known Bing to be this quiet when not playing a video game.

Pain overtaking every part of his body, Eric looks over at the android. He's staring at him. Up close his eyes are intimidating. They don't look remotely human; more some sort of sci-fi, steampunk style that glows in the middle like the Terminator. Eric supposes that's why he wears sunglasses all the time. It wouldn't be the easiest thing to explain to humanity. They usually don’t take kindly to those who are different. Eric can attest to that.

"Are ya really doin' the nasty with Dark?"

Eric flinches. Bing wasn't the most tactful ego.

"No, it w- wasn't what it looked like. I wouldn't do that to the captain. Or- or to Wilford."

Bing searches him, those eyes cold and calculating, more like Google than Eric ever realized. The android's personality was usually bright and sunny, his mind a bit dim. Eric hates the change. How distant he seems though he's only several inches away.

Nervous, Eric plays with the hem of his sweater, suddenly much too cold.

Finding his answer, Bing sighs loudly. Long legs stretch out. Somehow, though he's against hard concrete, he seems relaxed. Eric supposes he is mostly metal and wire and plastic, after all.

Bing's arms fall behind him, supporting his weight as he looks upon the stars.

"I'm sorry, bro. Whatever _did_ happen, you're fucked. Humans don't like to share."

Eric wasn't expecting brilliant advice, but he was hoping for a _little_ more encouragement.

But Bing was right. No reason to sugar coat it. He was fucked.

"Ya don't wanna hear this, but you should talk to Dark."

Eric's entire body stutters.

"W- what?"

Bing's head slowly turns toward him. Eric could hear his mechanisms moving in his neck.

"If he isn't your side piece, then he'll wanna fix this shit too, right? He's the only other person who, like, knows what really happened."

For being the lesser-trusted search engine, Bing did have a point. No one knew the pain he was feeling more than Dark.

With more effort than he likes, Eric stands back up.

"Thanks, Bing."

The other smiles up at him, procuring glasses from his pocket before putting them on.

"Any time, bruh. Good luck."

With no effort the android grabs his skateboard and heads back toward the cement, disappearing down the long descending driveway. When he can no longer hear the boards’ wheels scrape against the concrete, Eric turns toward the daunting manor.

He takes off toward Dark's bedroom, mortified that someone will get the wrong idea if they see. A nervous fist knocks on his door with soft taps. There's no answer. Eric's almost grateful. Dejected, he walks back toward his room when he sees there's a faint light coming from Dark's office. Of course he can't sleep either. If Dark even does sleep. Eric never knows with the egos.

He knocks lightly, awaiting entrance.

"Come in," answers the man from the other side, sounding much too nervous and hopeful for his liking.

Eric enters, eyes settling upon the ego who's standing almost breathlessly in front of his chair.

"Oh," an obviously disappointed Dark says. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Eric puts up a hand.

"It's okay. I... I understand."

Deflated, Dark sits down. An elbow is placed on his desk, head going to rest against his fist. He looks as terrible as Eric feels.

Nervous legs carry Eric over to the chair opposite the desk. It's plush, comfortable and inviting. Eric feels he doesn't deserve it.

His eyes glance nervously in Dark's direction. There's an old, intricate glass of scotch in his hand. He nurses it before taking a long sip. Eric eyes it wantingly. Dark must notice, because he grabs another glass and pours. He hands it over to Eric who takes a big swig. It tastes like burning, but it will do the trick.

"So, what do we do now?" asks Dark.

Flickering eyes peer up, searching Eric's face for answers. Eric realizes his eyes are glossy and red, either from crying or being drunk, Eric isn't sure. Likely both.

"I, um, I actually came here to ask you that."

Dark laughs. There's absolutely no humor in it, yet he laughs anyway. Life's funny like that sometimes.

"I tried talking to him, but he won't listen to me. I've never cheated on him, Eric, not once. It- it never even crossed my mind."

The older man sways, body glitching with blue screams and sobs before settling back into his normal colors.

"We've known each other since we were kids," continues Dark, more to himself than to the man sitting across from him.

"We practically grew up in this house. I've seen my friends come and go. I've watched them die. _I_ died here."

Eric gapes. 'He what?'

"We lost our parents. I lost my body. I lost Mark. I never thought I'd lose Will, too." 

Dark sobs once, head falling to his desk. A tentative hand reaches out to touch where Wilford's bullet had grazed it not long before. Eyes of a man long since dead fill with tears.

Eric looks at his own scotch, wondering if he should be doing this. If he should be here right now. His reflection looks sadly up at him, amber and murky. Dark's probably too drunk for this conversation, and he's certainly too far gone emotionally to think clearly.

The head of household sniffles, leaning back into a sitting position. He straightens his suit jacket as well and clears his throat, steadying himself.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away. My apologies."

"It's alright," Eric soothes sincerely.

Dark watches him. Just watches him. Pin pricks of nervousness start in his back before Dark finally speaks.

"I have to get him back, Eric," comes his determined, eloquent voice. "I can't do this without him."

Eric nods. He knows how he feels. A piece of his soul is missing.

"Everyone thinks I'm so cold and calculating, but it's not true. I enjoy being in a leadership role, sure. Being mayor was one of the highlights of my life. But I can't do this without him."

Dark stares sadly into his scotch, his own dejected reflection judging back.

"Or, at least, I don't want to."

Dark starts to glow blue around the edges, form breaking as he stares angrily at himself. Eric wonders if he's truly talking to Dark right now. Or if Dark isn't really who everyone thinks at all. There's a much softer man before him. Still eloquent and demanding of respect, but without all the rough corners.

"Dark?"

The man finally looks up, albeit slowly.

"How... how do we get them back?"

Sighing, Dark downs the rest of his scotch.

"I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My finger slipped. Several thousand times hahaha. 
> 
> Edit: Also, I posted a story with Magnum's perspective separately, so look out for that. I didn't want to put it in the main story, so that's the next update to this. It's called Hey Jealousy and takes place between this chapter and the next.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read Hey Jealousy (written from Magnum's perspective of what happened between Ch. 12 and this one) then I recommend doing that first before reading this one. It's posted now and I believe it does add to the story, but you don't have to.

After a while Eric leaves Dark’s office and heads back to his depressingly empty room. Having their little pity party was solving nothing. He walks across the hall, a little tipsy. He doesn't notice a man standing in the hallway, brown eyes growing darker as the shadows fill his heart. 

Unaware, Eric enters his bedroom and collapses on the bed, not bothering to take off his clothes. 

When he wakes in the morning his sore temples throb. The sun flittering through the closed curtain is too much. Groaning, Eric turns over. He tries to doze back off, but a nagging feeling pulls him from blissful, painful sleep. When his eyes open he swears he sees a brown coat swish out of his doorway. It's probably the scotch talking. Plus he'd only gotten four hours of sleep and it was spotty at best. 

The zombified Eric staggers out of bed, throwing on some new clothes. He doesn't bother to look in the mirror or comb his hair. Eric doesn't care. He's starving. And in desperate need of water. 

As soon as his prosthetics hit the kitchen tile he knows it's a mistake. Every single damn eye glares at him. It reminds him of high school. People sniggering. Calling him freak. Rumors whispered across tables. Despising glances thrown his way. 

He notices Wilford sitting by Google, eating toast like it's drywall. For a second he sees the captain. The seat next to him, the one meant for Eric, is filled. It's that damn prisoner. Eric's muscles stutter. He almost loses his balance.

'Yancy,' Eric sneers to himself. His eyes quickly dodge away before returning, thoughts morphing. 'They didn't...? They aren't...? Are they?'

Eric can't help the viscous cold jealousy shredding his flesh into a million little shards. Hot tears threaten to spill over. Eric stays strong, instead grabbing a glass with frighteningly shaky hands. He fills it with water, downs in on the spot, and sets it in the sink with record speed. 

Aware of every single step, Eric rushes out onto the veranda, needing to head as far away as possible. He walks for a while, no destination in mind. Every thought leads back to his now ex-boyfriend. It can't be helped. There's the garden where they walked together. Where they made love. Wincing, he makes a beeline and ends up standing in front of the pool where they had their first kiss. Where Wilford claimed he and Dark had sex. 

Even though he wasn't guilty of the sins forced upon him, he can't help this feeling that he became a homewrecker.

Needing to get out of the manor for the first time in almost a year, Eric heads toward the driveway. His prosthetics ting against the concrete as he goes. He’s regretting not grabbing any shoes, yet no amount of discomfort will push him into entering the house again. Not now. Possibly not ever.

"Suh, dude!" 

Whipping around, a frightened Eric sees Bing and Chase skating together fifty feet away. They'd constructed a makeshift ramp near the front of the building. Heart stammering wildly, he waves at the two who wave back. 

"Where ya goin'?!" shouts Chase. 

"I don't know!" Eric yells back. 

Wherever he wants. 

It's a nice thought. 

Their driveway spans for an outrageously long way. When he was a kid Eric would ride his bike up and down theirs. It took him about ten seconds per lap. This would probably take at least five minutes. 

Finally, he finds the sidewalk. He treks past the gorgeous houses in complete awe. Eric's never been sure how people can afford these mansions. None of the egos have to work, and Dark has never once asked him for money. How are they staying afloat? Eric chews on that idea for a while. Cars drive past unaware of his pain, of the accusations against him. It's exactly what his tattered existence needs. 

By the time Eric comes back home it's already evening. He had found a food truck along the way, so he's gladly not hungry. Asking a total stranger for food mortified him more than it ever should, yet he succeeded. Eric was honestly fairly proud of himself. Besides, he’d rather deal with a stranger right now than face another ego ever again. 

Not needing nourishment, Eric heads into the manor and rushes toward the safety of his room. A few housemates walk past, but he purposefully notices none, eyes set on the floor. Sore legs begrudgingly walk him toward his bedroom, every step glass shards. When he takes off the sleeve that protects his legs from friction there's a little surprise: Blood. 

With an annoyed sigh, Eric peels them off. The white material is littered with little specks of blood. He looks at the ends of his legs. They're maroon from overuse. Some of the skin is broken and bleeding. 

'Whatever.' 

He deserves it anyway. He should have known better than to follow Dark. Everything inside told him not to. The pendant tried to protect him. It glowed deathly sick for good reason. Eric should have ran when he had the chance. Now he had to face the consequences. 

Groaning, Eric grabs the ointment from his bedstand and applies some. It burns like hell. 

'Good.'

Terribly exhausted, Eric lies on his bed. Not bothering to get under the sheets or change his clothes, Eric passes out after a while. 

No one bothers him that evening. 

Nor the next day. 

Nor the day after that. 

xxoxx

A piercing scream bellows through the manor, waking every single ego. Eric jumps with a start, hands instinctually protecting himself. Panting and sweaty, Eric lies there listening. His breath goes quiet. Nervous ears search for another noise in the darkness. He hears another scream in the room across from him. 

Then there's a gunshot. 

Not fearing for his retched life, Eric scrambles for his prosthetics. He runs out the door, shaken but desperate. He throws open the doors to Dark's office. 

He's met with the barrel of a gun. 

Wilford, obviously plastered and not emotionally stable, is pointing a pistol directly at Eric’s face. Putting his hands up, Eric starts to stutter uncontrollably. 

"Come ta save your lover, eh?" spits Wilford. The vile practically oozes from his words. "Well, too late." 

Gulping, Eric looks beyond the gun to see Dark standing by his desk. Bottles of alcohol are thrown and smashed upon the floor beside him. Glass embeds in the posh carpet. Expensive liquor seeps into the wooden floor. 

He looks to Dark for help. All the color drains from Eric’s face. There’s a bullet wound in Dark's chest. Blackness seeps out, coating his white button-down. 

"You shot him?!" screams Eric. 

Dark cautiously moves toward them, feet unsteady, hands extended outward. He's wobbly and ashy grey. The injured man is obviously not comfortable, but he's standing. 

"It's okay, I'm-"

Before he can finish his sentence a large, burly figure bursts into the room, almost knocking Eric on his ass. It's enough to make Wilford lose focus. Behind him surges Dark, tackling him to the ground. 

"You can't shoot Eric, you idiot!” screams Dark. “He's mortal!" 

He struggles on top of his ex-lover, both fighting desperately for the pistol. 

Being much more sober, even though he's in great pain, Dark has the upper hand. He strangles the gun out of Wilford's grasp. 

Struggling to stand yet succeeding, Dark wavers on his feet. He holds the old gun in his hand, looking too much like he's done this exact thing before. 

Eric can't help gawking at the gaping bullet wound staring back at him. 

Panting from exertion, Dark gives him an exasperated look. His gaze follows Eric's to the hole where his heart used to be. Wilford had excellent aim. 

Pissed, Dark straightens his ruined suit and clears his throat. He starts to become a darker grey once more. 

"As I was saying: The wound won't last long, and it won't kill me. There's no need to worry." 

Relief washes over Eric. The captain doesn't seem quite as pleased next to him. 

There's a pained groan breaking the sudden silence. Dark's eyes snap to Wilford who's still curled into a ball on the floor. A gray hand reaches out to him, wanting to fix. Wilford slaps it away, huffing loudly. He steadies himself and stands with way too much effort. Swaying, Wilford turns his attention toward Eric with murderous intent still burning in his bloodshot eyes. Eric gulps. He's just glad he didn't succeed. 

Dark heads over to clean up the mess Wilford's made. Eric itches to be helpful, but stays where he is. He'd rather not piss off Wilford and the captain further. 

The door opens a sliver. Doctor Iplier peeks in with Bing, the Jim's, and Illinois visible behind him. 

"Um... everything okay in here?" asks the doctor. 

"It's fine," answers Dark. 

No one believes him. 

Doctor Iplier pushes his head further in, surveying for himself. 

"Are you sure? Is anyone hurt? I heard a gunshot."

Dark goes to the door and waves them away. Without his usual hospitality, Dark slams the door shut in their faces. Which leaves the two broken couples alone in the uncomfortable office. 

Silence drags on for minutes. No one dares look at each other. Eric stares down at his pajama pants, counting all the happy little puppies staring up at him. Their chipper smiles are cruel. 

"So," starts Wilford, glaring through Eric; "how long have you been fucking my partner?" 

Grimacing, Eric folds cold arms around himself. 

"Will, I keep telling you, it's not what it-" 

Wilford cuts the greyscale man off, an angry glare flashing his way. Dark shuts up. 

"I wasn't talking to you!" sneers Wilford. 

All eyes settle on Eric. Waiting. The captain radiates anger beside him. Wilford looks more tired and hurt now than furious. 

"I- we never-" 

Eric takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It refuses to work. How could he explain this any further? Now that he finally has the chance, everyone is listening, and his nervous ticks won't let him finish a single god damn sentence. 

"So, ye never had sex, but ye were about to," offers the captain spitefully, not believing his own words. "Is that what yer tryin' to say?" 

Eric violently shakes his head. Everything is going to shit again much too fast. 

"No, I- I swear, we- we never did anything." 

"We keep trying to tell you it's all been just a big misunderstanding. I asked Eric in here because I felt a paranormal presence around him. I admit I did ask him to take his shirt off, but-"

Hands painfully grip Dark's shoulders, shaking him violently. The man stutters, eyes growing wide. The captain keeps him in a death grip, practically growling. 

"So it was _you_ who came on to _him_!" screams the captain. "I knew it!" 

"I didn't mean it that way. Please, let me explain-"

"Oh, I think I've heard enough." 

"Captain, please-" Dark almost pleads, trying desperately to struggle out of his grasp. 

"Everything was goin' so well. How could you?!" chokes out the captain. 

With a heavy heart, Eric knows he's addressing both Dark and himself. 

Defeated, the captain's grip loosens slightly. His head hangs low. A man that size should never look that small. Eric can feel the roaring emotions crashing over his former lover. All he wants to do is reach out and comfort him. 

"Do ye have any idea what he meant to me?"

Every cell in Eric's body is drained of life. Meant. Past tense. 

Eric wants to speak - _needs_ to speak - before things get further out of hand. He knows the captain probably can't kill Dark, but he sure as hell can try. 

"Ple- please stop. If it makes you all feel better I- I can move out, or y- you can hurt me, just don't-"

Eric's cut off by a door slamming into his right side. His body careens and down he goes, falling painfully onto his shoulder. 

Storming in like a roaring hurricane is Google. He whirls into the room, a force to be reckoned with. 

"Stop arguing," he barks angrily. "I can't stay charged with all this damn noise." 

Ignoring the humans, Google opens his laptop and sets it on Dark's desk. All of the egos stare at him as though he's grown tentacles and started speaking Latin. 

Standing up with too much effort, Eric notices the now open doorway. They still have company. The other egos were all peeking in, still nervous but much too curious to leave. 

The procured laptop hums on the desk as Google clicks a few times and opens a video. He turns it toward them. Eric is shocked to see it's him and Dark on the screen. 

"I thought one of you would think to check the security cameras to see what _really_ happened, but I guess I put too much faith into your intelligence." 

'Security cameras!' 

Dark groans, hand slapping his forehead while Eric's vision shoots up to the camera stationed behind Dark's desk. It hangs in the far corner mocking them. It's watching all of Dark’s precious books. Eric should have remembered. Dark had Google install them after the Jim's came to live with them. 

Eric chances a glance at the captain whose mouth is slightly parted. 

"Are ye sure we should be watchin' this?" he asks too nervously for Eric's liking. 

"Yes," Google states simply, then presses play. 

The scene unfolds before them: Eric backed against the desk and Dark before him. Eric looks visibly nervous as Dark asks him to take off his shirt. 

Wilford's hands ball into fists at his side. The captain glances away, not daring to watch. 

On screen, Eric resembles a frightened animal, ready to flee at any second. Yet he stands frozen, mortified. That's when Dark had realized his mistake and apologized, instead asking about the talisman. 

The captain freezes, then his eyes shoot back to the laptop. Wilford's hands unclench as he looks at Dark in askance. The other man gives him an impossibly sad look. On screen, Eric speaks. 

"I'd rather not take it off. It- it's important to me." 

The captain chances a glance at Eric, eyes swirling with emotions. He fiddles with his hands as his gaze turns back to the laptop. 

On screen Dark reaches out a tentative hand and touches the artifact. It jolts at him, protecting Eric from whatever form of creature Dark really was. Pissed, Dark shakes his hand with pain, making a hissing sound. He reaches out, palms on either side of the talisman. 

The door furthest from them bursts open. Eric jumps violently, pushing Dark away. The man tips backward, trying to steady himself. Eric desperately pulls him back in by his tie, making Dark fall into his chest. 

That's when Wilford walks in, finding them in an awkward position. When they chase after the other ego, Google pauses the video. 

In the present, Wilford stares at the screen, though there are no longer any moving images. 

"I... I'm sorry." Wilford's voice hitches in his throat. "When I saw Eric damn near shirtless and Dark on top of him, I just-" 

He calms himself before looking over at Eric, then Dark. 

"I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. This is all my fault."

Dark shakes his head, taking a tentative step toward his old friend. 

"Don't be ridiculous, it's my fault. If I had thought more carefully about what it would have looked like, then I would have taken a different approach. In my wildest dreams I never thought something like this was going to happen." 

Wilford takes a few steps toward his former lover. Dark stands rigid and uncertain, like he wants to move but doesn't know how. Wilford reads him like one of Dark's many novels and walks over, tentatively putting a caring hand on his arm. 

Dark looks down and, Eric can't believe it, but he smiles. A true, full, genuine smile. 

Wilford wraps him in a warm embrace, not caring who sees. Mortified, Dark looks at the open doorway. No one minds one bit. If anything, they were all happy for them. Those not involved in the fiasco were just glad everything could get sorted out now. A broken home was not a happy one to dwell in. 

Everyone else disperses, including Google with his laptop, leaving only the two couples behind. As Eric watches the duo embrace before him he feels a familiar hand rest on his arm. Jumping, Eric hesitantly glances over at the captain who gives him an apologetic look. 

"Would ye like to get some fresh air?" 

The captain's eyes are no longer filled with hatred. There’s a deep, aching sadness that Eric understands all too well. 

Eric doesn't even try pushing away the tears overflowing from his eyes.

"More than anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt anyone remembers, but I mentioned the security cameras way back in Chapter 1. It was meant to sound like an offhand comment but I was actually foreshadowing this lol.   
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. This one was so much fun. Only a few more to go!


	14. Chapter 14

The two stand in semi-comfortable silence on the stone balcony. Birds chirp in the trees below. A slight wind tickles Eric’s neck and cards through his hair. The early morning chill clings wet to his exposed arms. Enough so Eric wishes he'd brought a sweater. 

Neither has yet to speak. They're not sure where to start. 

After a while, Eric nervously plays with his shirt. He knows the video cleared him of any wrongdoing, but he just can't shake the feeling that it's not that simple. Maybe it will be for Dark and Wilford, he's not sure. But the captain is uncharacteristically quiet, and Eric doesn't know what to say. The other couple has known each other for so long that there's a history between them. They've barely known each other for weeks. Though it feels like a lifetime, they don't have nearly the same foundation to fall back on. It might not be that easy. The captain was still visibly hurt, form rigid and cold. Though Eric has a nagging feeling it wasn't entirely caused by him. 

"Would you- Did you want to-?" starts Eric, entirely unsure of himself. 

Gladly the captain throws him a proverbial bone. 

"I caught my boyfriend in bed with a good friend of ours. They were on top of each other, like they had any _right_ to be. I'll never forget the way they both looked at me." 

The captain stares off toward the horizon, shaking his head. A pink sky hangs over him as the sun starts to rise. 

"It was on _my_ ship. In _my_ bed." 

Pissed, the captain's large hands grip the stone fence. Eric's certain it'll snap like chalk beneath his grasp. There's a cold chill up his back as the captain glances sideways at him. 

"I thought ye were better than that, I really did. But when Wilford told me he saw ye two together, it sent me right back there. I imagined finding ye, Dark naked on top of ye in our bed, and I just-" 

The captain cuts himself off, unable to speak further. His entire body deflates as he leans against the fence once more. Those usually sparkling eyes turn downcast, little life left inside. 

"I'm sorry for doubting yer loyalty to me. But I need ye to understand I don't take kindly to cheaters. I've had my heart broken too many times." 

Eric knows the captain took a big chance with him. That he had loved and lost so many in his long life, just as he had. 

He's never been in a committed relationship himself. Hell, he's hardly been in a relationship at all. But if the tables were turned, if Eric had suspected the captain of cheating, he knows it would utterly break him. There was no questioning it. 

Scared but feeling a little brave, Eric extends his arm. Shaky fingers find the captain's coat and wrap around the course material. The touch brings his former lover back to him from the painful nostalgia. Eric can't believe it, but he's awarded with the tiniest of smiles. He'll take it. Hell, he'll take anything right now. He'd endure a punch to the face if it meant the captain was talking to him again. 

A rugged hand lays itself upon Eric's wordlessly. They stand there together for a while more, neither daring to speak. Too fragile to shatter the silence. 

Eventually the captain turns to leave. Eric watches his back, aching and yearning to follow. Was he allowed to anymore? The guilt is still overwhelming. 

Not feeling his presence, the captain turns. They stare at each other across the void. 

"Are ye comin'?" is his simple question. 

The shattered man doesn't understand. Does he really want Eric to follow him again? Like old times? It's as if the captain actually wants to be in his presence. Eric is too skeptical to believe it. 

"Let me make it up to ye. I'll make ye breakfast." 

Eric's so relieved he could start crying again. 

Instead, he follows the captain into the kitchen, standing close yet too far away. 

It's a start.

xxoxx

"Can I ask ye a question?" the captain asks over a bite of eggs. 

"Sure," answers Eric, a bit afraid of what's on his mind. 

"When Dark asked ye to show him the talisman, why did ye have ta take off yer shirt?"

"What do you mean?" Eric ponders, blinking. 

"Why didn't ye just pull the necklace out from under yer shirt? It makes a lot more sense."

Eric blinks harder, realizations catching up to him. 

'Son of a bitch.' 

Eric balks up at him, thoughts swirling. The captain's hearty laughter rings through the dining room. A relieved Eric can't believe he's graced with that beautiful sound again. 

"Didn't think of it, eh?"

Eric can't help but chuckle humorlessly at himself, shaking his head. It's a sad sort of laughter. The kind you find at a funeral. 

"No, we- we didn't." 

They finish their food in silence. The other egos should be coming in for breakfast any minute. Eric doesn't have the strength to make them anything. He doubts the captain does either. 

Being next to the man he adores is surreal. It's almost like days prior, before everything dragged them through hell. Eric yearns to take the captain in his arms and wash away all his pain. 

"Do you want t- to come back to my room?" Eric chances. 

The captain chews on a piece of bacon and on the idea. 

"If yer okay with that." 

Eric feels a flutter beneath his abs. 

"I- I'd like to make everything up to you." 

The captain raises an eyebrow. 

"Oh? How so?" 

xxoxx

They lie on the bed, a short distance between them. It feels like a mile. The captain is the first to reach out. His palm slides over Eric's arm, timid and unsure. Eric hates that he has to be. 

Fingertips glide across the captain's neck, making him shiver under his hand. Nervous fingers push into the captain's mass of hair. Eric cards through it, loving the way it glides between his fingers. 

The captain's unsure touch roams over Eric's chest, his eyes confused and forlorn. He stops on his stomach then looks into Eric's frightened eyes. 

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know," admits Eric. 

He's never known, really. They just did what felt right. And this felt sort of right. They weren't ready to speak yet. Eric hoped this would show the captain just how much he wanted him. All of him. Every aspect. 

The captain seems just as uncertain. His palm moves to cup Eric's head. He presses a hesitant kiss to his lips. Eric responds, barely containing just how much one small kiss means to him. 

The heat starts to rise as their kiss deepens. The captain grasps his back, pulling him closer. Their naked chests are flush. Pained lips melt against each other. He can tell by the growing ferocity that the captain missed him too. 

His hand wanders down the captain's back, settling on his ass. The captain purrs against him, fingers finding his nipple. Eric gasps as the captain plays with the sensitive flesh, never ceasing their kiss. 

The captain starts to lose himself in Eric's body. His mouth disconnects from Eric's lips. It attaches to a nipple, sucking the nub into his mouth. Eric feels himself start to get hard. 

The captain climbs on top of him, weight pressing him down. It's a little difficult to breathe but Eric doesn't care. The captain could smother him to death and he'd thank him. 

The other man grabs the bottle of lube from the bedstand then settles back over him. Eric feels the captain's growing erection press into his leg. It does something to him. It's not entirely a good reaction. 

Eric is nervous. It hasn't been like this in more than a month. The captain is on top of him and he's scared. Not of the captain, but of something. Of everything. 

His mouth moves to the other nipple, distracting Eric's worried mind. The want starts to take hold as other emotions are somewhat discarded. 

His lover shifts over him, eyes staring down into his. The captain is a wildfire barely contained. It's in his touch. In his eyes. In the way he holds Eric down, pushing him into the mattress. Eric would be lying if he didn't adore it. 

"Tell me yer mine," growls the captain before biting his neck and sucking hard. Dazed, Eric lazily wonders if it'll leave a mark. He hopes it does. 

Panting and groaning happily, Eric obeys. 

"I- I'm yours." 

"Say I'm the only one who gets to do this to ye," the captain demands, hand gripping his ass almost painfully. 

"You're the- you're the only one. I don't-" Eric gasps as a finger plays with his entrance; "I don't want anyone but you, Captain." 

The captain's face turns soft momentarily. It doesn't last, but Eric's chest glows regardless. His lover squirts some lube into his hand. 

"Good," he says simply before a finger is suddenly inside him, stretching him open. 

Eric's breath hitches, body tensing. His arms wrap around his lover's back, pulling him closer. The captain waits for him to relax before delving deeper. Eric whimpers, already wanting so much more than a finger. 

Pausing, the captain gives him a concerned look. 

"Ye alright, lad?" whispers the captain, as though others can hear them. The vibration of his voice rumbles against Eric's chest. It does wonderful things to him. 

Nodding, Eric kisses him with enough heat to get his point across. Pleased, the captain smirks down at him. God, Eric missed this. Missed _him_. 

"Fuck me," Eric moans. 

"I am." 

Eric would laugh if he wasn't so desperate. 

"No, I mean- I want you to-" He can't get himself to say it. 

The captain worries at his lip, his hand halting. 

Eric wishes he hadn't said anything. 

"I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"Why?"

"Because we've never done that before. _You've_ never done that before. I don't want to hurt ye." 

Eric shakes his head. 

"No, you don't get it. I _want_ you to hurt me." 

The captain rolls off from him in slow motion, distressed eyes staring off in the distance. A mortified Eric turns toward him. He's suddenly very cold. 

"Wh- what's wrong? Did I- did I do something wrong?"

Eric's stuttered words sober him up. His lover gives the nervous man a disheartened look. 

"I don't want to hurt ye, Eric. And I don't want ye to want that either. I- I'm sorry. We shouldn't be doing this right now. It's too soon." 

Suddenly Eric feels very exposed. He's too naked. Too vulnerable. He curls into himself, covering his shame. Eric can still feel the captain's finger in his ass like a ghost tormenting him. 

'God dammit! Why do I always have to fuck everything up?!' 

The captain turns on his side, watching him carefully. Eric knows the other man is right. Their emotions are too raw. Sex isn't going to fix it. 

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't h- have suggested it." 

"It was a nice thought, but..." the captain trails off, unsure what he's even thinking. 

Eric knows the feeling. 

The captain grabs the blanket at the foot of the bed and covers them both up with it. Movements careful, he helps them get settled in. The void is there again, bigger than it was before. Eric wants to jump into it and land with a splat. 

The captain reaches out a cautious hand. Eric looks at it and realizes how small he looks compared to the other man. Staring at the offered limb, Eric takes it. It's slick with lube, reminding Eric of their mistake. 

"I'm sorry," repeats Eric. "I'm so sorry." 

The captain's eyes are crashing waves. 

"Ye don't have to be." 

Eric knows he doesn't, but he is anyway. 

They spend all morning like this; the only lifeline between them is their joined hands. 

When the captain is ready to give all of himself, Eric will take it with open arms. Until then Eric will accept whatever he gives him. Anything is better than losing him again. 

xxoxx

A few days pass before they're ready to talk about what happened. Eric isn't sure he wants to, but as the two stand outside that evening watching Bing try to impress them with his skateboarding skills, he knows they have to. 

"I'm sorry," Eric starts. 

"Ye don't have to keep sayin' that," the captain urges. "'Tis not yer fault, lad. I should have let ye explain. I should have trusted ye."

They watch Bing trip, skateboard slipping out from under him as he falls on his ass. 

"We haven't known each other that long. Y- you don't know that much about me. How are you supposed to trust me? We… we rushed into this. I don't even call you by your name."

Eric knows everything he says is true. Even if it hurts. Especially if it does. If this is going to work, they need to realize it's not all rainbows and sunshine. They're back down to Earth now. This is real and it can be taken away. 

Pain is apparent in the captain's saddened gaze, but he nods slowly. 

"Aye, yer right. We probably should have taken things slower. But we didn't."

Eric had never been in a serious relationship before. He let the whirlwind sweep him up. It turned into a tornado and tore him away from everything he loved. Now they were cautiously coming back together, broken pieces slowly slotting into place. 

"I don't want to go back," the captain explains. "I don't want to lose ye. I don't want to lose this."

The captain squeezes Eric's hand in his grasp. 

"I don't either."

xxoxx

They grab a bottle of wine, two glasses, and sit at the empty bar downstairs. No one bothers them as they spill every important detail of their lives. Though it hurts like hell, both men know it's for the greater good. 

Eric tells him about his father and the disgusting slurs he called him. About the beatings. How his mother met her devastating demise. He explains in excruciating detail about the bus accident. How his legs were severed. When he saw his brothers' bodies scattered across the bus and the ground outside. He talks about the painful physical therapy. About coming out to his family and how terribly they took it. 

The captain tells him about his wife and son, tears welling in his eyes. He talks about the crew members he's lost. About his father who used to beat him. The mortification at realizing he wasn't straight. About his mother and sister he loved and lost. How bittersweet it felt when he’d found out his father had died.

They talk until the sun comes up. Their emotions are raw and bleeding, but they stitch each other back up, sewn together now. 

Eric has a feeling they'll be okay.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sad that this is almost over. This story has been my baby for months. Thank you all for reading! I appreciate it more than you know. :) <3

A week after their talk they're feeling much better. Their relationship will never be quite the same as it had been, but that was a good thing. It was stronger. They knew more about each other than they ever thought they would. There was a trust between them now. Eric hoped it was unwavering.

It's late November now. Thanksgiving was in a few days and they had to prepare. This year it was automatically the captain's responsibility to make Thanksgiving dinner. Not that he would’ve let anyone else take over anyway. Being his partner yet again, this involved Eric. The man wouldn’t change it for the world. 

They go to the store with Google, riding along in his Tesla. He's there to make sure they don't go over budget. The android is the only ego Dark trusts with his credit card, including Wilford.

"Magnum?"

"Aye?"

"I'm gonna go do my Christmas shopping," Eric explains with a kiss to his partner's cheek.

He chances a glance at Google who is extremely bored in their presence. Eric offhandedly wonders if he's always like this with humans.

“Have fun,” the captain calls to him, chancing a glance at their grocery list, eyes squinting because he forgot his reading glasses.

Glad to be out of the house, Eric wanders around for a while. He’s trying to find what was left on his own list. Some things he had ordered online already, others he wanted to get in person.

Being Eric, he loves this time of year. He wouldn't lose the opportunity to look at all the Christmas decorations. It fills the man with cheer most people in the store would find adolescent and annoying. Eric doesn't mind. He's always had a soft spot for the holidays. And now he finally has the chance to shop for a partner. Eric’s always dreamed of such a thing.

He finds some long pajamas for the captain and for himself- a matching set. He knows it's cheesy, but Eric's always wanted to do this. The soft-hearted man loves the domesticity of it. His mother used to dress all her boys up in matching sweaters every year for their annual Christmas card. Everyone else thought it was lame, but Eric was a sentimental boy. The memory hurts immensely. Thinking of his mom is bittersweet this time of year. He misses her dearly. 

Gulping down emotions, Eric wanders around, a little lost. It's been a very long time since he's been to a store, and even longer since he's been left alone in one. Yet he figures it will do him good. Plus he doesn't want anyone knowing what he gets, especially his boyfriend.

Eventually he finds gifts for Wilford, Host, and the Jim’s. They’re the last ones on his list. The first gets a moderately cheap bottle of wine. The Host will get an audiobook from a fellow author Eric knows he admires. And the twins each get a gift certificate, because Eric honestly doesn’t know what the two like to do besides reporting and pissing off Dark.

After almost an hour he's found everything he needs. His small cart is mostly full and it’s honestly daunting. Praying to nothing and no one in particular, Eric checks his bank account. The poor man really hopes he has enough. Being a millennial, he has very little in savings, so pinching pennies is the best he can do.

Google finds him standing in an isle staring desperately at his phone. 

"Are you ready to go? Magnum was looking for you."

Eric's taken a little aback. It sounds weird upon his ears. He's not used to people calling his boyfriend by that name. Eric has only started doing it himself after their talk. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

"Y- yeah, just a second."

Eric waits for his phone to load while Google sighs and fishes his own from his pocket. The nervous man glances above his glasses, head still tipped down. He watches Google, bored and scrolling a finger across the illuminated screen. The android had been wandering around, bored, on his phone, and wanting nothing to do with the other two the entire trip. If they didn’t look the same age, Eric thinks it would seem like they’d brought their angsty teenage son to the store.

Leaving Google to do whatever it is he’s doing, Eric heads to the front of the shop. He checks out through a self-serve so he doesn't have to interact with people. The problem was he was buying alcohol so the cashier had to check his ID. Her condescending glare as she looked him up and down made his skin crawl. Soon enough the older lady was gone, leaving him with a strong fear that he was somehow an alcoholic and should repent for buying a single bottle of wine. Strangers often had the tendency of making him feel terrible for things he'd never even done.

Afterwards, he stands nervously next to the door waiting for Magnum. People stare, paranoid of the anxious man, wondering why he's so jumpy. Eric despises that feeling. He hates their condescending eyes scouring him. As though he'd stolen something. Like Eric would ever want to, or even dare to.

Google had gone to fetch Magnum, leaving him in a small panic attack. Eric sees his boyfriend walking down the aisle coming up to check out. His cart is overflowing with food. Eric can almost taste the traditional- or possibly untraditional- feast. He's not quite sure yet. They hadn’t discussed the menu. Magnum wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible.

With a frustrated scowl, Google helps the man through the line. Eric chuckles to himself while watching Magnum. He resembles a confused grandfather, staring dumbfounded at the technology like he's never seen it before. Actually, Eric isn't sure he has. The captain looks so out of place. Still, no one would know he was a two-hundred-year-old man and the other an android. Eric wonders how _he's_ one of the most normal people he lives with. It's definitely saying something.

They haul everything into Google's car. It barely fits. Magnum is forced to sit in the front with his seat tipped all the way back just so his large body can shove itself inside. Eric sits cramped in the back with bursting plastic bags next to him. Something's digging into his arm. He thinks it's a box of stuffing. The only one who’s comfortable is Google. Frankly, Eric is a tad bit jealous.

Xxoxx

Thanksgiving morning is hectic and filled with coffee and timers and bleary eyes. When they're all finally sitting around the dining room table, Eric can sigh with relief. As the heads of household, Dark and Wilford sit at opposite ends of the expansive table. Eric’s tired body practically falls into a seat, Wilford on his right while Magnum settles in on his left. Their hands intertwine under the table, both men pleased that their hard work is done. The tablecloth tickles their tired fingers.

Bim and Host sit next to each other, bickering slightly. As do Google and Bing. The Jim twins are wearing ironed buttoned down shirts and pretending to be proper but keep giggling at each other and popping off jokes. Eric notices that Yancy and Illinois are sitting awfully close. The explorer leans in and whispers something to his friend that makes the other blush and look away. Illinois just seems pleased with himself and chuckles. Embarrassed, Yancy leans into the other man and starts to laugh. Eric can't help but smile at the sight, happy for them. Yancy still made him uncomfortable but now it was because he didn't know the man well enough, not from pure jealousy. After everything that happened he was honestly glad that the two had found each other. Eric squeezes Magnum's hand, eternally grateful that he's taken him back as well. Everything could have been astronomically worse.

Dark clears his throat, everyone’s attention snapping in his direction. He makes his toast first, holding a wine glass filled with Bordeaux.

"I may not always seem like it, but I'm grateful for all of you at this table. Without our little commune I'm not sure what I would be doing right now."

Wilford pokes Eric in the arm and whispers.

"He'd be doing me."

Eric blushes but doesn't say a word, maintaining direct eye contact with Dark the entire time like a frightened schoolboy.

Unaware, Dark looks around at everyone with a smile in those pained eyes and lifts his glass higher.

"To another great year."

Everyone lifts their glass and takes a sip.

Then it's Wilford's turn.

He stands with a flourish and lifts his own glass, pinky finger extended. A dot of wine spills on the white tablecloth. Dark gives the stain a disappointed scowl. Wilford doesn’t notice. He's a little wobbly and blinks a few too many times. Eric figures he's started the celebration early by opening the liquor cabinet. 

He wouldn't be wrong.

"And I jus' wanted to say that I love aaaall of you guys," the slurred speech starts; "and, Dark?"

He turns toward his partner, sobering up for a second.

"I love you the most."

Dark blushes like mad and slowly falls back into his chair. Wilford looks around awkwardly, words catching up to his drunken mind.

"Uh... thanks,” is the finale to Wilford’s short but memorable speech.

The embarrassed man takes a giant swig of wine, wishing he could drown in the sweet liquid.

Everyone gives each other a confused glance before taking a cautious sip. Going silent, all the egos decide to not bring that up ever again.

"Let's eat!" Magnum belts next to him, changing the subject.

Everyone is super impressed with the captain's spread. He beams next to Eric, eating up the praise even more than the food. Which is to say something, because the man was a tank and ate like one.

There are mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey, a vegetarian alternative for Eric, buttered carrots, and every other traditional food someone could think of. The only bizarre concoction was something the captain simply called “a surprise.” Eric still doesn’t know what it is, but it’s scrumptious and doesn’t kill him, so he’s fine with that.

After the filling meal, everyone sits back in their seats, stomachs beyond full. Eric helps the Google’s clear off the table and put away leftovers, only leaving desserts.

Once everything was cleared away and the dishes were soaking in the sink, Eric plops back down next to his boyfriend. He was now lounging on a cushy couch eating a slice of homemade pumpkin pie, topped with a generous amount of whipped cream. Magnum takes his finger and runs it through the white sweetness, swooping up a little dollop. He smirks as he boops Eric on the nose with it. Giggling, Eric wipes it off with his own finger and licks it clean. As he glances back at his boyfriend his eyes are low and sparkling with mischief. Eric smiles warmly, getting ideas for later.

When Magnum's finished eating he reaches out. They hold hands, Eric leaning into him instinctually. They’re both sleepy and content and _very_ full.

Before long most of the egos have fallen asleep from turkey coma. Illinois and Yancy snuggle together in an oversized chair, flirting with each other, limbs intertwined as they begin to doze off. The Jim's have passed out on the floor, bodies haphazardly spread over a blanket. The reporter sucks on a thumb while the camera man snores. He kicks his brother in his sleep, the other man making a soft pained noise, yet neither wakes up. Eric watches them and smiles sadly, the twins reminding him of his own brothers. He glances at Magnum, wishing he could have met them all. Eric's certain he would have loved the Derekson boys. Most of them would have been so happy for Eric.

He glances back to the living room and sees the Google’s and Bing leave the humans to their own devices. Eric's not sure where they go and probably doesn't want to.

He's exhausted after working all morning and the evening before. Eric snuggles up to his boyfriend who’s warm and inviting, glad that their day had gone so well. Magnum pulls him in, arms wrapping around his smaller frame. Eric’s heavy head rests against his chest, sighing happily while smelling the familiar cologne. Eyes falling closed, Eric feels the pull of sleep reeling him in. He knows they deserve a nap after their hard work. The captain dozes off first, Eric soon to follow.

When Eric wakes up he doesn't know where he is. Blearily blinking away sleep, he glances around the room. He feels Magnum under his touch; hears him lightly snoring with his head craned back against the couch. Eric can't imagine it's comfortable.

Across from them on the opposite couch is Dark and Wilford, holding hands and entirely passed out. Eric covers his mouth because he can't stop grinning. Dark's lips are wide open as he makes little noises in his sleep. Wilford is passed out from all the alcohol, snoring loudly. They're leaned against each other, much like he and Magnum.

Forever a romantic, Eric gets fanciful ideas of double dates in his mind. Though he's sure none of the others would ever agree to it, he likes the idea nonetheless.

Eric has always looked up to the couple before them. He knows there’s a level of respect between them no matter how much they playfully bicker. It’s an old relationship. One that’s been weathered over the test of time and they’re still battling the storm together. Eric hopes he and Magnum have a possibility of that level of commitment years down the road. They’d almost lost that chance. If it hadn’t been for Google, neither couple would be here right now. Eric knows he owes the android everything. They’d been drug through hell and back, but here they were, stronger than ever.

xxoxx

Later that afternoon Bing and the Google's come back with a massive Christmas tree. It takes most of the egos help to haul it in. Some of them stay after to decorate. It feels so nostalgic. Eric's family had always done this Thanksgiving night.

Most are prepared with gifts already, so some presents are placed under the tree.

Dark is the first to shop, while his other half is the opposite. Wilford always ends up doing everything in a last-minute panic, pushing people in the stores and grabbing what he can while security chases him out to the parking lot.

Google usually gets everyone a random Google product, which Eric realizes now he probably doesn't even have to pay for. What a cheapskate.

Meanwhile, Bing tries his best but is absolutely terrible at gift-giving. Last year he gave Eric socks.

Bim is no longer allowed to give gifts after "the incident".

The Host usually gives away copies of his latest book, which makes Eric very happy. Eric has never had the courage to tell him, but he's one of his favorite authors. He's read Magnum a couple of his books already.

The other egos are pretty good at giving presents, or they at least give semi-practical gifts.

That leaves the two of them. He doesn't know how the captain is at gifting to other people, but he's already given him the talisman around his neck, which Eric loves, so he's content.

Eric prides himself on excellent gift-giving skills. Much like Dark, he plans early. All year, in fact. If he sees something he thinks someone will like, he'll buy it and hide it away. He loves to make people's eyes light up, so Christmas is right up his alley. He always loved it as a kid, and as the years have gone past, nothing's changed.

The rest of the afternoon goes by well. They help decorate the gigantic tree with all kinds of different colorful decorations. Bing and the Jim's screw around throwing ornaments at each other while Dark and the Google's chastise them. Though Eric doesn't want anything to break, he has to admit he finds it funny. Hearing Magnum laugh at their shenanigans makes it all the better.

After a couple hours all the decorations are set except the very top. Since the tree is even taller than the captain, he lifts Eric to put on the Christmas star. It makes him feel like a child again in the best of ways.

That night they're lounging around on their bed, talking and snuggling. The holiday bliss circles around them like a warm breeze. Just being close and soaking in the others aura turns Eric nostalgic. They’re in the middle of a slow, lazy kiss, hands wandering over each other's bodies, passions starting to rise, when Eric hears something behind his back.

His phone is vibrating on the nightstand. Eric's getting a call.

He frowns, turning around. Confused and a little peeved, Eric blearily looks at the screen. When he reads the Caller ID he nearly drops the phone.

"Oh - Oh God, no."

Magnum stops rubbing his back and instantly steels.

"What be the problem?"

"It's... It's..."

The phone screen screams at him, buzzing in his hand incessantly. It's the one person he doesn't want to talk to. The one person he loves and hates equally in this world. His dad.

With a gulp, Eric hits "Answer" and puts the phone to his ear.

"H- hello?"

"Hello Eric. I see you haven't learned how to talk yet."

Eric’s eyes close tightly, anxiety exploding his entrails.

"No, I- I- I guess not."

Derek seems to wave him off on the other side of the phone.

"The charity livestream is coming up. I need you to be here tomorrow for recording."

Flabbergasted, Eric doesn't know how to respond to this.

"B- but last year you said-"

"Who cares what I said last year? Be here, at the studio, eight AM sharp. No dawdling, Eric. I know how you are."

He really didn't.

"Bring your A-game this time, kid. I'm counting on you. Don't fuck it up."

Derek disconnects the call, leaving Eric hanging from a noose. For a few moments he stares confused at his phone, legs swinging and neck broken.

Did this conversation really happen?

Magnum strokes his arm in askance. Wide-eyed and mouth agape, Eric sets his phone down and turns back toward the captain.

"Who was that?"

Apparently Magnum hadn’t heard the conversation. That was probably a good thing. His dad would be a goner. As much as Eric would sometimes like that, he still loved him. Even if it was possibly Stockholm syndrome.

"It- it was my dad."

Fire blazes in the captain’s eyes.

"What did the ol’ bastard want?"

"My help."

"Are ye gonna give it to him?"

"I have to. He's m- my dad."

"Ye don't have to do anything. ‘Tis not your responsibility, Eric."

The broken man nods slowly, thoughts and emotions swirling into a hurricane.

"I know, but I've always helped. H- he- he needs me."

Deep down Eric knows that's not true. Derek never needed Eric; Eric needed _him_. He was his dad. He was supposed to love and protect him. Though all he did was belittle and degrade him. Eric knew now that wasn't love. But it's all he'd ever known. More than anything he's craved his father's approval. Always. But he's never gotten it.

Deflated, Eric cuddles into the captain's strong chest and breathes hard. He doesn't want to be a downer. The broken young man doesn't want to burden Magnum with his pain. But, dammit, here come the waterworks.

"No. No, no," he whispers into Magnum's strong chest and breathes hard. Eric grips the captain’s shirt for dear life. "Not again. Not now. We - we were having such a great day. Why does h- he always have to- to ruin everything?!"

He sobs angrily before stuttering back strong. The captain is a bit taken aback. He's never seen Eric this angry. Magnum tries to rub calming circles on his back, but he can't be tamed. Eric looks at the captain, wipes tears from his eyes and feels a strength he doesn't understand. It's anger taking hold. After all these years he's finally been shown he's worth something, and he won’t let his father ruin this day for him. He can't destroy their lovely holiday. Or fill his head with doubts and misconceptions.

Eric takes the captain's face in his hands and kisses him hard. Surprised brown eyes stare back at the angered man. He kisses back after a moment, surprised but eager to please.

Eric's eyes are still welled with tears, about to spill over at any time. He breaks the kiss only to rip his shirt off, then work on his pants. The captain stares, mouth agape, half of him turned on and the other horrified.

"Uh... Eric? Ye alright?"

Eric shakes his head. He's now fully naked. The captain lies there too clothed for Eric's liking. He tries to pull down his pants but the weight of the man, and him not lifting his hips to help, makes it entirely impossible. Magnum eventually catches up and helps undress himself. Eric starts at the shirt next. This time the captain is quicker on the uptake. His powerful hands work on the tiny buttons then he throws the shirt to the floor with reckless abandon.

Eric straddles Magnum and kisses him, caring yet powerful. The captain cups his back, being dragged along for the ride. Eric presses down, Magnum’s growing erection sliding against his stomach. He breathes hard, forcing his lungs to catch up. Everything inside is screaming and Eric just wants it to stop.

Eric looks deep into the captain's eyes with a plethora of emotions - sadness, anger, torment, arousal - and makes one simple request.

"Fuck me, Magnum. With - with everything you've got."

The captain gulps, not expecting any of this. They haven't done this yet. Magnum has never been inside of him quite that way. They'd used toys and he had fingered him many times. But he’s never let himself give into that urge. They've had this conversation already. The captain's afraid to hurt him. Right now, Eric doesn't give a shit if his body can't take it. He just wants him. All of him. And he wants it _now_. But he cares about Magnum's wishes more.

“I want you, but i- if you’re not comfortable I understand.”

"If that's what ye want, then I aim ta please, but I want ye to be sure."

Eric sighs with relief. Honestly he's glad that Magnum isn't angry or scared. If he was, Eric would back down immediately.

"I'm sure."

He gives his boyfriend a small kiss before climbing off him momentarily to grab the lube. Eric straddles him again, nervousness starting to settle in. Seeing Magnum's excitable expression helps calm many of his fears.

Eric's still wearing his prosthetics so it's much easier to balance on his hands and knees. He squirts some lube in his palm, takes the captain’s growing erection in his hand, and starts to stroke. Magnum bucks into his hand, entirely not prepared but enjoying the impromptu ride. Eric realizes then he's just stripped and fondled Magnum without a word.

"Is this - is it alright? That we’re doing this?"

The captain gazes up at him, eyes swimming with sex.

"I think me cock speaks for itself."

Eric isn’t entirely pleased with that statement. He needs more reassurance. His strokes falter, bringing his boyfriend back to Earth.

"A- are you sure?"

"It be more than fine. I'll always take anything ye give me, love."

Eric's hand halts. Shocked, he loses balance and his entire body seems to sputter. Love. He called him love. A new nickname. A cherishing one. A telling one.

The captain strokes his cheek and smiles almost shyly. 

"Do ye like that?"

Eric nods, mouth filled with cotton.

"Can… can you say it again?"

"Do ye like that, love?"

Eric licks his lips and leans down for a gentle kiss. Magnum presses him closer, deepening their connection. When they break apart a happiness spreads inside Eric’s brain. Magnum called him his love. His boyfriend might not feel that emotion quite yet -Eric couldn't be sure, anyway- but it was a start of something magical. Eric couldn't be happier.

He starts to stroke the captain again. The man moans under his touch, lying there happily as his partner does whatever he wants to him.

Eric grabs some more lube, spurts it onto his hand, and lathers the captain’s cock even more generously. Then he scoots up, lines up his cock with his entrance, and Magnum suddenly catches up.

"What- what are you-"

Eric presses down on Magnum's cock, completely unprepped. As the tip pushes into him, Eric lets out a shudder. It's definitely bigger than anything he's used to. The captain bites his lip, conflicted. It's not entirely comfortable for Eric, and some prep would have helped tremendously. But Eric doesn’t want to wait. He wants it hard and fast and he wants it now.

Eric presses down further, holding the captain’s cock in place. Magnum grips the bedsheets, gasping for air.

"Fuck, Eric, yer so damn tight."

Eric’s cock jolts at the words. The captain looks up at him with ecstasy as a strangling chokehold but with concern obviously taking precedent.

"Are ye sure ye can do this? Does it hurt?"

A couple weeks ago he would have lied and said everything was fine. But they had promised they would talk things out when they happened, not letting fear or jealousy or pride get in the way. As much as Eric wants to, it will take some time to be brutally honest. His entire life he's had to lie to protect himself. Looking at Magnum, he knows he deserves the truth. The man only wants the best for him, even if Eric never gives himself the same care. Taking a deep breath, Eric speaks.

"It’s a little uncomfortable," he admits; "b- but I like it."

Magnum growls, hands forcing Eric's hips upward, his cock sliding out.

"Eric, I told ye I didn't want to hurt ye."

The pain in his voice brings Eric back to Earth. It was never his intention to hurt Magnum. He's about to apologize profusely when his boyfriend grabs the lube, squirts a generous amount onto his hand, and reaches downward. Suddenly his finger is inside of his ass. Eric mewls, hands on the man's chest for support. After he's comfortable with one finger Magnum adds a second. Soon he's spread open and panting, craving more. Lidded eyes beg and plead for the captain.

"Magnum, please, I need you."

Suddenly there's a third finger pressing in. Eric screams. The captain immediately pulls out, scared eyes scouring his.

"Did I hurt ye? I'm so sorry."

Eric violently shakes his head, body aching for more.

"That was a good sound," he assures breathily, embarrassed at how loud he'd been.

"Promise?"

Eric smiles down at him, eyes blown with lust and heart overflowing from the tender protectiveness. There was something about the way this big, strong man took care of him that Eric could never get enough of.

"I promise."

Adding more lube, the captain starts fucking him with two fingers again. Slowly he adds a third. This time Eric can take it easily. He moans low as he's stretched wider than he ever has been before. As his fingers fuck him his other hand roams over Eric's body. He plays with his nipples before dipping down, caressing his abs, his hip, anything he can reach. It's wonderful. When Magnum is satisfied that he's prepared for him he holds his cock and watches Eric.

"Are ye ready?"

Honestly, Eric wasn't sure. But he definitely wants to try.

"I think so."

Magnum lines himself up to his entrance and waits. He doesn't press up or push himself inside. Eric realizes the man's letting him set the pace. He sits down slowly, tip sliding easily inside. As he watches Magnum, breath ragged, eyes swirling with lust, Eric knows what they both need. Determined to give the captain a wild ride, Eric pushes his ass down hard. Magnum stops himself midway through a buck. A strangled sound escapes Eric. The captain grasps his hips, stopping any more movement.

"Did that hurt?"

Eric shakes his head. Truth was, it felt good. He wanted to feel split open. For it to be rough and hard and fast. To be so thoroughly fucked he screams. To let out his aggressions and give the captain the riding of his life.

"I'm- I'm fine. Don't worry, I’m ready. I want this."

Eric puts a steadying hand back on Magnum's stomach while pushing himself down. The captain digs his wooden legs into the mattress, attempting not to buck. Eric wouldn't mind. He's so close to being balls deep now.

Eric sits down fully on his cock, Magnum making a choked sound at the feeling. Eric gauges him for anything wrong, horrified he's hurt him.

"Di- did I do something wrong?"

Magnum's head shakes violently from side to side, body rigid under his weight.

"No, yer just -" the captain cuts himself off with a pant; "Yer just really tight. I..."

Magnum's eyelids are tautly closed. He doesn't finish that sentence, so Eric decides to continue. He sits up then presses himself down hard, fucking himself on Magnum's cock. Eric feels so damn full. He can feel his ass clench around his shaft; can only imagine how unraveled the captain already feels.

"You can fuck me. If you- if you want to."

Wanting nothing more, the captain growls. He takes ahold of Eric's hips and pulls his body down. Eric gasps, a bracing hand on Magnum’s stomach clenching around thick, dark hair.

"Yer sure?" Magnum asks with what little control he has left, pupils blown wide. "Because if I start now, I don't know if I'll be able to stop. And I don't want to hurt ye."

Eric nods, looking deep into his eyes. It's a promise.

"You won't hurt me. Please."

"Please what?" asks the captain, knowing the answer but wanting him to say it.

"Please, fuck me, Magnum."

The captain loses it. He pulls Eric down by the hips and bucks up into him. Eric gasps, barely holding himself up. It's hard and hot and heavy, and in short time Eric is unraveling. He can feel the captain is too. His breathing is spiked, movements rhythmic and powerful. Eric's so very glad they'd slathered his lover’s cock in lube, because there was no going back now. Not for either of them.

Eric steadies himself with one hand while stroking himself off with the other. He pants and growls while Magnum takes him. Every inch was almost too much to bear and not enough instantaneously.

They'd always made love before. It was never this carnal. Never this quick and dirty. Honestly, Eric is devouring it. Not that he didn't love the sweet love making and gentle exploration. No, he adored that more than anything. But this. This was something entirely different. Something he needed like air. And hell if the captain wasn't giving it to him.

"Eric, I -" Magnum gulps hard, barely able to form a sentence. "I can't control meself anymore. I- I'm-"

His eyes bore into Eric's, a silent askance of permission. Eric bites his lip, wanting to feel his partner's release.

“Come inside me,” Eric begs.

The captain throws his head back, teeth gritting as he loses control. Eric moans loudly as Magnum's cock pulses with waves of ecstasy, come claiming his ass as his.

The sight and the sensation of watching the captain unravel and buck uncontrollably drives him wild. Eric bites harder, hand pumping wildly on his own cock.

"So close, so close, so close," his mantra repeats.

Magnum’s hips sputter to a stop. Eric's about to groan with frustration when a still-lubed hand suddenly pushes his out of the way and grabs ahold of his cock.

Eric’s gaze snaps to Magnum. His eyes are glassy, filled with euphoria and damn set on getting his boyfriend off. Eric begs without saying a word; just his noises alone plead for him.

"Are ye gonna come for me, Eric?" beckons the captain's gravely voice.

Eric can hardly hear him through the urgency of letting go. The hand on his cock is pumping so strong and fast he knows he won't last much longer. Eric grasps whatever body parts he can for dear life.

"I- I-" he starts, unable to finish.

The man watches him with intense satisfaction. Eric is panting at his touch, fucking up into his hand. The captain moans and Eric almost loses control. Magnum sees Eric’s desperation and loves it.

"I want ye ta come on me."

Eric's body clenches. His eyes shutter forcefully closed.

"Please, please, please," breathes out Eric. "Magnum, _please_."

He's right on the edge. Eric's so fucking close it's almost painful.

"Don't fight it. Come for me, love."

Eric sees white. He screams, anger and ecstasy surging through him as he comes hard. The captain strokes him throughout it all. Semen spills over Magnum’s stomach and drips down his hand. Eric bites his knuckle to stop screaming as waves assault him. Magnum growls with satisfaction.

"That's a good lad."

Slowly, Eric starts to fade. He all but collapses on top of the captain. Panting, heart throbbing, Eric's mind buzzes with endorphins and sudden dehydration.

"Oh my God, that was amazing." 

His lover hums in agreement, stroking Eric’s back. The captain waits for his boyfriend to come back to reality before pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

Still panting, Eric tries to catch his breath. It comes back ever so slowly. He tiredly tries to lift himself off Magnum, but the man holds him there. Eric decides if he doesn't mind, then he won't either.

"Wow," Eric breathes out. It slowly settles in what just happened.

"Better?"

Eric nods against his bare chest. It was absolutely better. The rough sex wouldn't fix anything, but it was a big fuck you regardless. His father would be so pissed if he knew he was in a relationship with another man.

Eric absent-mindedly plays with Magnum's chest hair, floating in the afterglow. The captain hugs him close, kissing the top of his head. Eric snuggles somehow closer and soaks in the feeling. As if it won't last. As though it might be taken away at any moment again. And his dad would try. He would bring up old memories; attempt to destroy Eric from the inside out. That's just what he does. Derek ruins everything. And Eric always had to pick up the pieces. Even if he could never put them together whole again.

Eric sighs, afterglow beginning to fade. But he does honestly feel much better. Even though it wouldn't fix anything, it definitely helped. Plus his ass feels so thoroughly fucked in a way it never has before. It was extremely satisfying knowing Magnum was comfortable enough with him for this now.

Eric glances down at his boyfriend, a plethora of emotions barely tucked inside his aching heart. After spending the day with Magnum and the other egos he felt like he had a family again. They bickered and loved and fought just like any other family. Eric loved them for it. He wants that in his life again. Not his father, the man who only wants him around when he was convenient, but a true family. One he chose.

"Thank you," his meek voice says, pressing a soft kiss to Magnum's chest. Eric means the words in so many ways he can't even count them all.

At first there's no answer. Then the captain softly speaks, adoring eyes captivated by his lover. A hand rubs tiny circles on his back as he hums softly.

"Any time."

As sleepiness invades his senses and bleariness takes control of his eyes, Eric hears himself whisper: "I love you" as he fades to the land of sleep, leaving his boyfriend mortified.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek is an asshole. The tags have been updated.

When Eric wakes up Magnum is worrying at his lip and staring at a blank wall. Completely unaware, Eric blinks away sleep and yawns. The sudden movement snaps the captain from his reverie. He seems genuinely scared. That sobers Eric up right away.

Eric tries to get up, but his arms are wobbly from all the cardio. He's not sure how long he's been out, but he realizes he's still lying on top of Magnum, and they'd left the light on.

"What's wrong?"

Magnum doesn’t look at him.

'Oh no.'

"Do ye remember what ye said?"

The confused man shakes his head. He remembers having sex, starting to fall asleep, and then-

Eric malfunctions. His eyes shoot to the captain's, horror apparent. Panic throws a cold, heavy blanket over him and piles snow on top. He's suffocating.

"Oh- Oh God. Did I say that out loud? I didn't m- mean to-" Eric grips the man under his weight, scared he'll float away like a balloon. "I- I- Just forget I said anything? O- okay?"

Magnum stares into space before shaking his head slowly.

"Ye see, I tried. While ye slept, I thought about it and..." The captain looks away angrily. "I love ye, too."

Well, Eric certainly wasn't expecting that emotion.

"You... do?"

"Aye."

"But you d- don't want to?"

The captain gives him a pained look, anger fading.

"It's not that, I... I haven't loved anyone in years. I don't know what to do."

Eric doesn't know what to do either. He's never even been in a relationship like this before. Everything was new to him. Yet he was sure he loved Magnum. It was early and it could fade with time. But right now he was completely, utterly, devastatingly in love with this man. And he never wants this to end; never wants to leave Magnum's side. If he lost him again it would surely break him.

He just couldn't believe Magnum felt the same way about _him_. He was Eric Derekson. That was nothing special. Just a blubbering fool with a terribly tragic past. That's all he thought of himself. How could someone look at him and think any differently? How could they possibly feel _love_? It was beyond him.

"Are you sure?" Eric asks, voice and mind distant.

Magnum wraps both arms around the self-conscious man and squeezes tight. Eric sighs into the caring embrace, ear pressed against his warm chest. He can feel the captain breathing against him. Eric faintly hears his heart beating beneath the taunt skin. It helps sooth some of his fears.

"Aye, I’m sure," the captain answers. His voice is much happier this time.

Eric waits for Magnum to fall asleep, mind branching to a thousand possibilities. When his partner starts snoring, Eric climbs carefully off from him. Shifting slightly, the captain stirs in his sleep. His body can sense the loss.

Thinking fast, Eric grabs a pillow and puts it on the captain's chest, replacing his body. Sighing happily, the large man hugs the pillow close, no longer stirring. It looks impossibly tiny in those large arms. Eric smiles tenderly at the sweet scene before him. He realizes that's what people must think he looks like compared to his partner: small and soft. The man could crush him without breaking a sweat.

Needing to be alone for a while, Eric takes a much needed walk. It's late. Or, early morning, technically. The house is deathly quiet. Thoughts pound loud through his ringing ears.

Love. It was supposed to be a nice feeling, wasn't it? If so, then why was Eric so damn scared?

He walks past the meeting room, recalling the first time he’d met Magnum. Eric probably would have steered clear of the menacing-looking man. If it hadn't been for Wilford none of this would have happened. Eric vaguely realizes how different their first encounter would've been. If he hadn't been forced to take a chance he wouldn't be here right now, scared but finally happy.

Eric ends up in the living room, body stuttering when he notices he's not alone. Dark is on top of Wilford on the couch, two empty glasses of wine sitting on the coffee table. Eric balks as soon as he sees them. Thankfully they're still wearing clothes, but he's a little nervous that it won't stay that way for long.

Eric burns on his heels, making a beeline before they notice him. Needing fresh air, he heads out onto the terrace, a cold night breeze stinging his exposed arms. He leans against the stone railing and looks down at the scenery far below. The city lights sparkle miles away. Eric can almost feel the city’s heartbeat this late as the young and restless are out having fun and taking lovers to bed. That's where Eric should be right now- bundled up warm and cozy with the snoring captain. He just can't yet. His swarming mind needs to be settled.

They’ve been together for a little over three months now. Eric’s painfully aware that isn’t a long time. It has been an emotional few months, with some moments bringing them closer, others destroying all of what they had built. There were smiles and kisses, moans and ecstasy, anger and hatred.

In that short time Eric had fallen so desperately in love he couldn’t imagine breathing without the other man in his life. He took up all corners of his mind. Every day was filled with the captain. They spent time alone, but every minute apart Eric missed him dearly. He never knew it would feel like this: so desperate, consuming, and terrifying. Magnum drug him down into the sea, drowning him in the best of ways. He had saved him from himself. The captain had taken Eric’s sad, broken life and given him something to live for. Magnum was the best friend the lonely young man had always craved. Eric needed him more than oxygen.

Love blossoms in Eric’s heart, scary and true. He wraps protective hands around it, holding the tender feeling as it flickers like a flame. Eric’s terrified of letting it go out.

There's a small noise behind him, bringing him back from those unspoken fears. Jumping, Eric turns to see the man his whole world now involves giving him a nervous smile.

"Everything alright?"

Eric nods solemnly. He turns back toward the flickering lights of the city as the one inside his heart burns bright.

A warm coat wraps around his back. Eric smiles, arms going into the long sleeves with a little help. He pulls the old worn coat tight against him. It's huge and bulky and smells like Magnum. Eric breathes in deeply and shudders out a sigh.

The captain stands beside him in his own silent reverie. They know what the other is thinking without needing a word.

Craving contact, Eric takes Magnum's hand in his. It's warm and comforting. They stand like that while watching the world go on around them. The captain breaks the silence first.

"Did ye find Dark and Wilford?"

That's not the sentence Eric is expecting.

"Uh huh. Are they still in the living room?" 

"Aye," he clarifies with a nod. "Were they wearing clothing when ye found them?"

Eric blinks hard.

"Y- yeah?"

"Oh," says Magnum simply. His expression is unreadable. "Well, they're not now."

Eric can't help but snort. The captain glances at him, humor in his eyes. Eric shivers in the night air, not from the weather.

His other hand reaches out, Magnum taking it without thought. He looks up at the man, both hands in his, warm and grounding. His partner watches back, cautious smile spreading over his rugged face.

"What?"

Eric takes a deep breath, not groggy anymore. There’s a terror etched inside, but this feeling is stronger. It’s desperate and heavy. Eric is consumed by it. He takes a deep breath, getting ready to speak. This time he means to say it.

"I love you."

Magnum's breath hitches. He looks into Eric's eyes like he's been shot. There’s horror deep inside him, but in front of it all Eric sees a twin flame casting those fears into darkness.

The captain squeezes his hands, looking down at the man that’s made him break every single rule he’s set for himself. He never meant to fall for someone again. Eric didn’t know how desperately deep his emotions ran for him. Magnum was always too afraid to tell him the truth. But he deserved to know. With a deep breath, Magnum responds. 

"I love ye, too."

Emotions overwhelming, Eric pulls the captain into a hug, the other man molding around him. They've done this a hundred times, but now it's different. It's a promise. Eric is in love. And he's loved back. He never thought this day would come.

The captain kisses the top of his head, resting his lips there for a while. Slowly they break apart, hands still connected.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" asks an exhausted Eric.

The captain nods, expression sleepy.

"Absolutely."

Turning, Eric knows he's been out here long enough. He's gotten what he needs, and what he needs is also what he wants. That doesn't always happen in life. For once he’s very lucky. 

Eric opens the door for them as they walk back into the manor, down the corridor and into their bedroom.

He tosses and turns all night, thinking about the day ahead. Eric doesn’t want to see his father right now, but he’s already agreed to help. Magnum's protective presence beside him helps greatly, yet nothing can prepare fire for a douse of gasoline.

xxoxx

Eric wakes up and chugs a cup of coffee. It's much too bitter for his liking and he doesn’t even care. He needs caffeine. He's running on three hours of sleep and a whole barrel full of anxiety.

Doctor Iplier had agreed to give them a ride to the warehouse. He had the day off and didn't mind helping out. Eric was extremely grateful. He didn't know how to drive, and the captain had barely been in vehicles that didn't run on water.

They get to the warehouse, arriving a little before eight. Derek has everything sorted out and ready to go. He sees his son and immediately looks disappointed. Eric feels that special stirring of self-hated and guilt only his father can supply. 

Derek notices the man walking in next to him looking like he's come off from a Pirates of the Caribbean set. Eyes narrowed, hands on his hips, he stares angrily at the captain.

"And who might you be?” Derek snides, angry glance shooting back to his son. "Did you get a bodyguard?"

"Aye, ye could say that," Magnum offers, wide, powerful arms crossed.

The giant man is plotting, just waiting for the chance to break this bastard in half. Eric's afraid it might be literal. So, he stutters, faking a smile. It’s better to pretend than end up an orphan.

"D- Dad, it's good to see you."

It's a lie.

"Yeah, you too," Derek shoots back.

That's a lie too.

The captain doesn’t utter another word. He’d promised Eric that morning he would only interject if need be. It was Eric’s battle to fight. Magnum wasn’t pleased with the idea but agreed to the stipulations regardless. Now he just stares angrily at the man who’s made his boyfriend a living wreck. It makes Derek visibly uncomfortable, but not nervous. Eric kind of wishes it did.

“What’s with his get-up?" Derek asks his son once they’re a distance away from the captain.

“He- he’s a- a pirate,” explains Eric, as though that clears up everything.

Shooting him a look, Derek sighs.

“He’s got a few screws loose, huh? Figures. Couldn’t you have hired someone a little more sane?”

White hot anger surges through Eric. It's not a new feeling but it's one he's never acted on before. Every instinct in Eric tells him to break that streak and tell Derek off. He wants to fight and protect Magnum's honor. How dare his father assume anything about his partner. Eric's mouth opens to speak, but his dad cuts him off.

“C’mon, we gotta get this done if I wanna get paid.”

Derek takes him in the back to tell him about their new merch this year. A couple of sweaters, shirts, and sweatpants. Simple. Eric just had to say a few lines. Normally this would be okay. He's stuttering much less now. It's still a nervous habit but he's gotten better. Seeing his dad careens him right back into his old ways.

Nervously jittering, Eric stands in front of the camera, large green screen behind him. He holds up the merch, attempting to speak. Nothing is working. He blathers on, tripping over words. His breath gets heavy, lungs collapsing, heart palpitating. Derek stares daggers at him from behind the camera. His fingers tap, lips sneering. As Eric tries to speak his hands wring the joggers, mortified that his father is about to chastise him.

"G- get y- your exclusive, uh, hol- holiday merch today at-"

Derek growls, throwing the script to the floor. The motion makes Eric jump, eyes slamming painfully closed. Like not looking will make his father go away. As though he can escape without making a move.

"God dammit, Eric! Can't you do anything right?"

Eric's mouth opens to speak. He can't. His father lunges at him, unwanted hands gripping his tense shoulders. He shakes his only surviving son, screaming in his face.

"Why can't you say the lines? It's not hard! I ask you to do one simple thing all year and you just fuck it up.”

“I- I- I’m sorry,” sobs Eric. “I’m doing m- my best.”

Derek lets go of his child, eyes dark and sinister.

“Why are _you_ the son God left me? Merrick would’ve gotten this down the first time."

Eric stops hearing. He can't see anything but his father's face morphing with resentment. The words tumble around him. Gasping, Eric’s unable to find air in this vacuum.

His father's putrid eyes burn cold and uncaring. There's no love in them. Only detest and disappointment.

Tears pool up in Eric's pleading eyes, sliding fast down his quivering face. Everything hurts so badly he starts doubling over.

“I-“ Eric starts, but his father is moving farther away from him now.

Eric thinks it's his imagination. It's actually a strong hand lifting the bastard up in the air. Shocked, he sees his boyfriend turn Derek in his hand like a little toy he's about to break for pleasure.

"I wouldn't talk to him that way if I were ye."

Eric had never seen Magnum this sinister. Not even with Dark. And he had literally snapped that man's neck.

A scared child all over again, Eric moves beside the captain, afraid and wanting desperately to hide. He grips his coat, needing to feel grounded.

Struggling to breathe, Derek grabs his own shirt collar and pulls it away. It’s digging into his trachea. A choked voice rings out.

"And who the _hell_ are you to tell me how to talk to my own son?"

Without warning the captain drops him. Derek wobbles, trying to balance from the fall. Magnum waits until he's looking at him to speak.

"His boyfriend."

The captain doesn't blink while he stares defiantly into Derek's disgusted expression, willing him to say something; to give him an excuse to break his neck, too. Derek's swirling eyes morph to black. His vision clicks to Eric's in an almost inhuman way.

"He's your _what_?!" Derek screams.

"He- he's m- my boyfriend."

"It's a sin, Eric! Don't you ever listen to me? Do you want to burn in hell?"

Derek's quick temper is flaming. An inferno licks all around him, rising higher. Eric's caught in the intense heat, terrified face flickering in the shadows.

The captain stands there like a contrasting ice sculpture, no expression on his rough features. He could kill him without a thought. Eric knows he's taken lives before. He'd be lying if he wasn’t hoping he would right now. Deep down, under all the pain and sadness and loss, Eric wants his father to suffer. At the hands of his boyfriend would be sweet victory.

Gulping hard, Eric stands at Magnum's side, arm wrapping around his expansive waist. Derek watches his son’s movement with a sick ferocity.

"He- he makes me happy, Dad. Isn't that what y- you're supposed to want? Is for me to be happy?"

"Not if it's against God," Derek sneers.

"But I love him."

Derek's eyes freeze over. Sharp tendrils of ice cut Eric like shattered glass and leave him bleeding. Screaming. Re-living. His dad says something then. Something he had never dared to utter before. Eric has always known it to be true, but hearing it and thinking it are two vastly different experiences.

"I wish you had died in that bus."

Derek is being choked in one second flat. Magnum’s fingers dig deep into his neck, suffocating him. They’re about to snap his trachea in half.

"How dare you!" Magnum bellows, eyes wild with ferocious anger. "Ye fucking worthless bastard! I should kill ye for that."

Terrified, Derek chokes, clawing and gasping. Fingernails dig into the captain’s hands. It doesn’t affect him. Magnum’s teeth bare like a rabid dog. The captain is feral, almost foaming at the mouth.

Eric realizes then what's about to happen. His father is in danger. Magnum's going to kill him.

Eric stares wide-eyed. He can't stop Magnum. He doesn't want to. They could go to jail for life and he'd be happier there than letting his father live.

“Eric!” his father barely manages to choke out.

He sounds just like Merrick.

Eric’s thrown back on that bus, legs trapped, his brother screaming for help.

Missing legs burning, Eric grips his head painfully in his hands. Anguish overtakes him. His body bows forward. It’s too much. Eric can’t handle to re-live this torture again. He knows now: he doesn’t deserve this.

Seething, Eric shrieks.

"Stop it!"

Magnum thinks he's screaming at him. Scared of his own power, he lets go. Derek gasps for air, desperate hands grasping where giant red marks now formed.

"You giant freak! How dare you touch me!" screams Derek, voice horse.

"Don't talk to him that way," warns Eric.

"Or what? He's in my warehouse. I can talk to him however I want," Derek sneers. "You both should be ashamed of yourselves. What would your mother think of your so-called relationship?" 

Anger fueling him, Eric snaps, becoming a burning force to be reckoned with.

"She would have been happy for us. You- you always hated me, didn't you? You always thought I was the disappointment of the family. Well, I don't care anymore! I'm happy now, a- and you can't take that away from me!"

Eric's hands ball into fists. His whole body shakes with adrenaline. He's never screamed at his father before. Never dared to. Eric's not thinking, just reacting. Derek disrespected his mother. He insulted Magnum. He degraded him. His father has to pay.

An animalistic need overtakes Eric. He wants to slash and maim and torture this man like he has him all these years. But he'll take the next best thing. Once a burning inferno, now Eric's voice is contrastingly cold. Eric’s arm rears back. His fist connects with Derek's cheek. Knuckles collide against skin and bone. Eric sees the shock on his dad's face. It's so utterly satisfying. He hears the snap as his astonished face is knocked sideways. As Eric catches his breath, hands still clenched in defense, he admits something he never thought he would.

"I- I wish you had died instead of Mom."

Derek puts a hand to his cheek, growling in anger. Steaming, Derek lunges forward.

"You little fa-"

Reacting fast, Magnum pushes Derek to the floor before he can finish his homophobic slur. He won't let Derek hurt his son further.

The man's limp body slides back across the cold floor. His empty head smacks against the polished concrete. Derek lies there for a while, groaning in pain.

Eric decides then he's had enough. He's said what he has to. Eric's done with this man. He has a growing family now at the manor, with the captain and the other egos. Eric doesn't need him anymore. With Magnum's help he's learned he doesn't deserve this abuse. He's strong enough now to accept that.

_'The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.'_

Eric knows now this is true. Genetics mean nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that he's his father. Derek isn't worth calling his family.

Tired and shaking, Eric turns, Magnum watching him like his life depends on it.

"L- let's go," he says as he hobbles away, painfully aware of his prosthetics.

He thinks of his brothers, his mother, and all their animals. The loss. The pain. The grief. Everything he had with his father was poisoned. Everything he had at the manor was an antidote.

"How _dare_ you! I’m your father, Eric. I should call the police on you bastards!"

The thought makes Eric falter, but the captain's gentle hand touches his shoulder in support. It gives him strength.

"And admit a gay man punched you?" Eric sobs out, turning to face the bastard one last time. The look Derek shoots him is satanic. "Y- you’d never admit that I was able to hurt you.”

Scrambling to get up, Derek growls in contempt. 

"Fine, go fuck your life over. Don't come crawling back to me when he leaves you. You'll never find anyone who loves you like I do. I'm your father!"

The captain doesn't even turn around, just takes Eric's hand in his and walks him out the door. Eric can’t believe what Magnum says next. 

"He doesn't need a father, _I'm_ his daddy."

Derek revolts so hard he almost wretches.

They walk out the big metal doors as the man curses them, expletives and slurs flying everywhere. They slash and burn the two men, but they refuse to let it burden them. Derek doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.

They keep going until they reach Doctor Iplier's car, Derek still bloody and howling inside. Eric can't make out what he's saying anymore. He doesn't care to.

When they get in Eric collapses into the seat, their hands still connected.

"Done already?" the Doctor says, lazily playing a game on his phone.

"Aye," Magnum supplies simply, voice tired.

Eric isn't able to speak. His mind wracks over their fight.

This is it.

He's done.

As the car pulls away, he notices his father behind them in the side mirror. If looks could kill, Eric would be long dead. He watches as his father leaves his field of view, hopefully never to be seen again.

Needing a lifeline, Eric squeezes his boyfriend's hand. Magnum clutches back in solidarity. They were in this together. It was never more apparent to Eric than right now.

The aching man watches out the window at the city around them. His hot face presses against the cool glass. People were all around, Magnum was at his side, yet he felt so alone. His family was gone. His brothers and mother and animals were all buried. Now his father is dead to him.

His mind processes the conversation in his head. He had never told his dad the truth. Standing by her casket, people saying their condolences, Eric had been broken. No words could fix the tragedy. Their intentions were pure, but nothing was bringing his beloved mother back.

Still in shock, he had chanced a glance at his father. His arm was in a cast, but otherwise he was unscathed, while his mother’s body lie cold and empty in the casket beside him. Eric wondered how the world could be so cruel to take away an angel and leave a demon in her place. His mother didn’t deserve to die. He wished it had been Derek instead.

It was debilitatingly cathartic to tell him that. After all these years, Eric wasn’t afraid of his father anymore. To see the man's shock as a fist connected with his face was ecstasy.

Eric thinks of the captain standing menacingly, just waiting for a chance to step in. To break the man that had broken him. His teenage self would have been so proud -beaten and bloody as soon as he stepped out of the proverbial closet- to know his dad finally got what was coming to him. Without the man beside him, Eric still wouldn’t have had the courage to stand up for himself. If not for Magnum’s faith in him he never would’ve told his abuser off. Eric will be forever grateful. Though it was heart-wracking, Eric finally felt free. 

Memories already a bit hazy, Eric finishes replaying their exhausting morning in his head. When he realizes the last words Magnum had said to Derek, Eric giggles.

"Did… did you really tell my father you're my daddy?"

The captain chuckles heartily, a proud smile settling upon his face. His eyes crinkle in a way Eric finds adorable.

"Did ye like that?"

“I did.”

Eric beams unabashedly at him. Magnum awards him with a grin that makes everything worth it. They sit hand in hand, adoration spreading between them. With Magnum by his side he’s unstoppable. He feels like he could take on the world. Eric can tell this moment is a turning point in their lives.

He thinks of his father one last time before they get home. How pissed he must be. Between the two of them Derek's going to be very bruised. Eric is genuinely satisfied. It's what the bastard deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire damn story was written with two ideas in mind, and one of those was that I could use the "I'm his daddy" line. About 70,000 words later and we've finally gotten here lol. 
> 
> One chapter to go after this. That makes me sad. X'D


	17. Chapter 17

By time Christmas day rolls around Eric figures they're safe. The police hadn't showed up at their door and it had been almost a month. No texts. No phone calls. Derek was radio silent. Eric couldn't be more relieved. For the first time he feels at ease thinking about his father. Derek was finally gone. Good riddance.

That morning the egos all gather in the living room. They sit around the giant Christmas tree, most tired, some already hopped up on coffee. They're all in leisure wear, even Dark, who wears a black shirt and dark sweatpants. He’s holding a cup of coffee in one hand, his partner’s hand in the other. Wilford is donning boxers and a plush pink robe. He’s contrastingly excitable and awake compared to Dark’s dead-man-walking. Eric's a bit taken aback. He’s never seen them in pajama's before. He's glad they feel comfortable enough now to do so.

Eric is equally as excited as his pink-haired friend. He has on Christmas themed pajamas and a reindeer cardigan. The captain is wearing a new long sleeve shirt and matching pajama pants. They were a Christmas gift turned birthday present. The captain’s birthday had been a couple weeks prior, unbeknownst to Eric. The man had woken up that morning asking:

“What does today be?”

Eric glanced at his phone, unsure himself. Every day felt basically the same around the manor.

“December twelfth. Why?”

“Ah. Today’s me birthday.”

The other man had casually mentioned it like bringing up the weather forecast. Loving his own birthday, Eric had to wonder why Magnum had been so nonchalant about it. Though he always felt awkward about bringing up his own, afraid he would sound selfish somehow, he doubted that was the case with Magnum.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“Honestly? I forgot."

"But it's your special day."

"I'm almost two-hundred years old, love. It loses its charm after a while,” had been the captain’s response.

They’d spent the day by the beach, rowing through cold water in Wilford’s retrieved and patched up boat. Neither man almost drowned, so Eric deemed it a great success.

Eric reminisces about the recent memory that's already become nostalgic. A finicky hand rests upon Magnum’s upper leg. His boyfriend smiles sweetly his way, the feeling of yuletide flowing through all of them. Looking at Magnum, Eric's excited for the future for the first time in years. Now that he's a confident swimmer he yearns to be near the ocean, to see that glimmer in his boyfriend's eyes as they settle upon the sea he adores so much. Eric already wants to be back on the water at the captain’s side.

They sit beside each other on the sofa while other egos are plopping wherever there’s room. Bing, Google, and the Jim's sit cross-legged on the floor. Dr. Iplier is nursing a coffee with bleary eyes and checking his phone constantly. Illinois and Yancy are in a plush oversized chair beside each other, both looking more exhausted than anyone else. The two patriarchs sit on the larger couch holding hands. Dark seems obviously uncomfortable with the public display of affection still, but Wilford doesn't let go. No one dares to say anything to him. It would likely result in their decapitation. Besides, except Dark's nervousness, they look happy.

They all start to exchange gifts as the other egos trickle in. Eric gives them their presents with a beaming smile, though he’s most excited to give the captain his. He watches the other man open the package and smile wide. He had scoured the internet for the exact perfect gift until he realized something. There wasn’t one. Eric had walked to their beachfront and found as many small seashells as he could, gluing them to a simple wooden frame. Eric had to hide it away in his old bedroom so Magnum wouldn’t find it. He wanted to make the exact perfectly imperfect one, hopeful his boyfriend would appreciate the sentimentality.

Magnum pulls out the framed picture of the two of them. His fingers stroke the glass as he stares in awe, accidentally smudging it. Bing had taken the photo inside a couple months prior. They're sitting on the edge of the pool, taking a break from swimming. The tree overhanging them created a pattern of dark and light across their bodies. They're in their own little world, enthralled with each other, talking and smiling. Bing had sent it to him, both unaware the android had even taken it. Eric never told the captain. He wanted it to be a secret.

"This is amazing!" he balks.

"It's nothing, really," Eric says shyly, relieved Magnum likes it.

The other man looks at it like it's magical.

"How did ye get this?"

He turns it around and looks at the back like it will give him some sort of hint.

"I made the frame; Bing took the picture and sent it to me."

Magnum's eyes crinkle with a fond smile. When he looks at Eric his heart palpitates. He's almost overwhelmed by the love in Magnum's eyes. His boyfriend pulls him in for a hug and kisses the top of his head. Eric can't contain his smile.

“I love it. Thank ye.”

"You're welcome."

Everyone else opens their presents, saying their thank you’s, whether they meant them or not. He opens his own, getting a Chromebook from Google, a new book from Host, a handmade shiv from Yancy, and another pair of socks from Bing. He figures it's the thought that counts. At least this year they had puppies on them. Last year it was penguins.

Most of the other gifts aren't very memorable, except Dark and Wilford got Magnum and himself reservations to a posh restaurant. He's certain neither of them have fancy enough clothes to even enter the establishment.

If he's being honest, he's most excited to see what his boyfriend has gotten him anyway. Eric keeps waiting for the captain to hand him his, excitement barely in check. Nervous hands keep playing with the sleeves of his sweater. The other man sits and opens what others have given him, but never procures anything.

When they get toward the end of the packages Eric is honestly upset. There are no more presents under the tree. Though he tries desperately not to let it get to him, Eric's soul aches. He can't believe it. Magnum didn't get him a single thing.

Regardless, he smiles stoically, happy that his favorite holiday is here again. Eric forces the dismal feeling away. He has Magnum and the egos. His little family makes him happy. Eric should be thankful, but he can't help it. He's disappointed.

With a groan, the captain goes to get up. He watches his boyfriend, figuring he's heading to the bathroom.

Eric looks around now that he's left alone on the couch. No one is paying attention to him. Except Dark. The man gives him a small, knowing smile. What could that possibly mean? It makes Eric uncomfortable. He shifts in his seat, wanting to look away but afraid to. After their scandal Eric’s always a little nervous to be in a room with Dark. Or to see a look that could be construed as amorous. Frightened eyes dart around, hoping no one else had seen. He's just glad they're not alone or people might start to talk. Eric knows it's not likely yet he will never let fate play that terrible trick on him again. Not if he can help it. He fidgets even more when he realizes Wilford is now watching him too. He's about to get up and find the captain. And then he hears a meow.

Eric's heart trampolines inside his chest as he whips around. His boyfriend is standing behind him, all big and tall holding the cutest little kitten Eric has ever seen. Eric coos, wanting nothing more than to snuggle the adorable bundle of joy.

"Oh my god!"

Magnum smiles nervously, hopeful he's made the right decision. He brings the little one over to Eric. Half the egos are in awe as the tiny kitten gets a big hug from his new dad. With tears in his eyes, Eric carefully holds the little tyke in a protective embrace. He never wants to let him go.

The captain sits next to his boyfriend and the new member of their makeshift family, beaming with pride.

"Is- is he ours?"

"Aye, he's ours."

"What's his name?" asks Eric through happy tears that roll down his cheeks. Magnum wipes away at them while watching Eric fondly, other hand softly rubbing his back.

"He wasn't given one yet. I found him wanderin' around by the docks."

Dazed, Eric glances around the room. He makes eye contact with Dark. The grey man doesn't seem shocked at all. Eric realizes he must have already known. 

"Is this okay? Can he live here w- with us?"

"He's allowed. The captain already asked for my permission."

"Dark's smitten with kittens," Wilford teases, smiling and elbowing his partner.

“What’s wrong with that?” frowns Dark.

Not answering him, Wilford blinks hard. Eric has a sudden fear the man’s had a stroke. Though he seems whiplashed, Wilford schools himself quickly, looking at the captain with complete confusion.

"Wait, I thought you were getting him a, you know?"

Dark's eyes bug as his partner taps at his ring finger.

Magnum is utterly confused. Wilford realizes then he's made a grave mistake.

"Oh, I guess that hasn't happened yet. Maybe that's next year. Or the one after that.”

Wilford looks up at nothing, thinking, then chuckles to himself. Not explaining further, he waves for them to proceed.

"Nevermind. I remember now. Carry on!"

Eric isn't sure how he's supposed to after that. Was he talking about a ring? What kind? He gulps. It couldn't be _that_ kind, could it? Was that really in his future? Eric stares mortified over at Magnum who seems just as frightened as he is. Eric's not sure he’s quite ready for that level of commitment, so he's relieved Magnum doesn't seem to be either. Some day, sure, but not any time soon.

Regardless, nothing took away the adorableness of the fluffy bundle of joy cradled in his arms, so he focuses on him instead. The little green eyes look up in wonder. They're so full of excitement and curiosity. Eric coos at the little guy, lightly stroking his head. The kitten is all squirmy and hairy and ready for adventure. He reminds him of the captain.

"Magnum," Eric says confidently.

"Aye?"

"No, I mean that's his name. Magnum."

"Are ye sure?" the larger Magnum asks, scratching his neck. "Won't that get confusing?"

"We can give him a nickname."

The captain chuckles at his sentimental boyfriend, watching him hold the kitten with pride and relief.

"Magnum is already a nickname."

All the egos in earshot shoot their attention to the captain.

"Tha- that's not your real name?" Eric balks, mind tripping over the confession. His words echo. Everything seems suddenly off. It's like there's a shift in his perspective and he's seeing Magnum- or whatever his name is- in a whole new light. Eric doesn't like it.

The captain shakes his head, barely fazed, not realizing Eric's world is crashing down around them once more.

"I haven't gone by me real name in ages."

"You... haven’t?" asks a flabbergasted Eric. "Wait, then w- what's your real name?"

"If yer lucky, one day I'll tell ye."

Taken aback, Eric looks at every face around the room. When he notices Dark's expression, he has a feeling he knows. He makes a mental note to ask him as soon as he's able.

When he peers at Magnum once more the man is all smiles. Eric doesn't want the news to upset him, but it does. The rest of the morning he can't stop ruminating. Every thought is engulfed with the fear that Magnum is hiding even more from him. Only holding the kitten helps calm him down, but nothing can fix the nagging doubts forever.

Xxoxx

When they go back to their room that afternoon the captain has more surprises in store. Eric's just glad they're good ones this time. He hands him a poorly-wrapped present, tape strew everywhere. Eric wonders what the hell hurricane happened to it.

"Sorry," apologizes an embarrassed Magnum; "I tried me best."

It was sweet, really. Almost like a child had wrapped it. Eric wonders how long it's been since he's wrapped a gift for someone.

Eric carefully opens it. There's a cardboard box underneath the festive paper and the half a roll of tape. He rips off the damnable tape and opens it. There are a couple books inside, but what stares back at Eric has him speechless. He takes the shining golden object in his hands and looks dumbfounded at the captain.

"It's yer own pocket watch. I know people don't need them now with phones and such, but I thought you'd like one. Ye always seemed fascinated with mine."

"It's beautiful," Eric breathes, voice far away.

Stunned, he turns the watch over and over in his hand. It's gorgeous. By its weight it had to have cost a fortune. It has the same symbol as his pendant. Eric has no idea how he's found such a thing.

'Has he always had this?'

Eric presses the button on the side, an audible click filling the quiet room as the front springs open. You could see and hear the clockwork behind the face ticking away. Eric holds it like a newborn in his hands.

Pleased, the captain smiles nervously, gulping away some fears. He holds a squirming mini-Magnum, not caring that the kitten is chewing on his thumb.

"Do ye like it?"

Affection overflowing, Eric pulls the nervous captain in for a hug.

"I love it. Thank you."

Magnum relaxes, other hand wrapping around Eric. He nuzzles into his boyfriend, cheek resting on Eric’s head as he sighs.

"Good. I had a jeweler melt down some of me gold. It's the only one in the world."

Words swirling, Eric feels like he might pass out. Magnum, a pirate who treasured gold above almost all else, gave up some of his precious bounty for him. Eric doesn't know what to say. He suddenly feels his matching pajamas and picture frame severely lack in comparison.

Gulping down shame, Eric reaches in for the books. They did look interesting. One was a romance novel, the other a mystery. They’d have to read them together later. The captain was becoming partial to romance novels. Especially when they had to take a break in the middle of a steamy scene because Eric had become compromised.

"Thank you," Eric says, genuinely taken aback, but in the best of ways.

"Thank ye, too."

"I'm sorry my presents w- weren't that good."

Bewildered, the captain's eyes narrow.

"What? I loved yer gifts."

"You did?"

He has to be lying. Eric thinks it's charming, but he doesn't have to protect his bruised feelings. He can manage.

"Aye." The captain gestures between their matching pajama pants. "’Tis sweet ye wanted us to match. No one's ever given me part of a matching set before."

The man still can’t believe him. Eric didn’t have much. He barely had enough for a rainy day stored away in his bank account. If not for the egos’ generosity, he’d be living on the streets right now. He’d had nothing and no one before he came to the manor. Now he had everything. All he wanted was to show everyone how much they meant to him. Sadly, Eric feels like he’s failed.

Seeing the change in mood, Magnum sets the kitten down and pulls Eric in.

“Don’t be sad, Eric. I love them, I promise.”

Eric looks at the picture frame already sitting on the captain’s nightstand, their smiling faces protected in an ocean of seashells.

“Are you sure?”

“Aye. I love ye; I wouldn’t lie to ye.”

Eric’s heart flutters.

“You’re- you’re not lying to me?”

“Why would I?”

“Then tell me your real name.”

Pulling back, the captain looks surprised and hurt. He frowns Eric's way, shifting slightly, obviously uncomfortable at the scrutiny. Magnum gulps before looking down, twiddling with his thumbs. Eric wasn’t expecting his words either, but the overwhelming fear that he’s hiding something has been eating at Eric for hours. After their heart to heart several weeks prior he thought he'd known every important detail about his partner. Now he was devastatingly unsure of everything. His anxiety was telling him to run. All his overwhelming fears screamed and clawed their way into his chest. Even though he's terrified, he has to know. Otherwise he will always have that nagging voice whispering, cooing that Magnum isn't what he seems. That he's not to be trusted. That he's been using Eric this entire time. That he's lying through his teeth. Though Eric knows that's not true, nothing he does will quiet his mind. He needs to know the truth.

“Are ye sure ye wanna know?” Magnum sighs.

Eric nods, unable to speak just yet. He grips whatever he can find which happens to be his pantlegs.

“I don’t want us t- to have secrets like that. You might not like it, but- but I feel that it's important.”

For a moment the captain doesn't move. His eyes scour Eric's as though his boyfriend will change his mind. When he doesn't, Magnum deflates. He scratches his arm as he peers at the old carpet. Eric watches him closely, waiting as patiently as he can muster.

“I'll tell ye," agrees the captain, not pleased with revealing such a thing but knowing it's for the best; “but don’t _ever_ call me by it, alright?”

“Okay.”

His boyfriend takes a steadying breath, closes his eyes, and utters a name he hasn’t said in decades.

“Hubert.”

Eric can’t help it. He bursts into a giggle. He tries to hide it behind his hand hut he can't. The embarrassed captain shakes his head at his boyfriend. Yet the man chuckles right alongside.

"Don't laugh," Magnum chides lightly even though he's also laughing.

After a while Eric relaxes into his partner, smiling to himself.

“Hubert,” he utters.

“Don’t ye dare,” playfully growls the captain. 

Relieved that the captain trusts him enough to tell him makes Eric feel a bit better. He settles in and gives him a warm kiss. Magnum responds in kind, body melting into his touch. They sit there for a while, Eric’s worries beginning to ebb. He knows they will never know every detail of each others lives, and they have the rest of their days to learn more about one another, but he's grateful Magnum is willing to share.

"Why do you hate that name so much?"

"Because it was me dad's."

Eric's chipper, playful mood switches fast. He places a hand on Magnum's knee, the thought of his own father forcing his heart to race. He's glad to know Magnum doesn't seem all that upset.

"Oh, I- I'm sorry," Eric says, expression saying more than his words ever could.

“Me too. The bastard named me after himself. Why do ye think I changed it?”

Eric can’t blame him, honestly. He would have too.

Little Magnum jumps up on Eric’s lap, teeny claws digging into his thighs. Eric pets the small, furry beast who chirps up at him. He watches the cute little guy with love bursting from his heart. For years he was afraid to have another animal, always terrified they would meet a tragic demise. With the pendant safely around his neck Eric feels like the kitten will be protected. It's salve for his beating heart. But he still isn't sure of his boyfriend's safety. Looking at him he seems just fine, yet Eric knows the pendant can only protect one person. Since Magnum is likely still cursed, the amulet no longer able to save him, Eric doesn't know what to expect. He sits on their bed with growing worry as the watch ticks away in his hands. It's a sorrowful reminder. Though Magnum is right beside him he feels so far away. Eric holds his waist and hopes that will always be enough, because if anything ever happened to Magnum he would shatter.

Unaware of Eric's daunting fears, the captain scratches under the little one’s mouth. The kitten's eyes slide closed as he's awarded with affection. Magnum’s large finger looks impossibly gigantic next to the tiny, fuzzy head. Eric smiles softly while watching the two. He can’t contain the feeling of love spreading through him. For years he’s been ashamed of his sexuality. Now, sitting with the man that he loves, and an animal hopefully protected from Eric’s curse, he’s beaming with pride. He doesn’t care what others think; he doesn’t care what they say. His father and people like him could burn in hell for all he cares. Sitting there, surrounded by adoration and affection, Eric is finally happy. Though he adores every material object his boyfriend has given him, and the little kitten they'll raise all on their own, having Magnum in his life is the greatest gift of all.

xxoxx

That evening Eric excuses himself from the captain and the kitten. Eric leaves little Magnum with his new daddy, the smaller snuggled up on his broad chest. Eric beams as he watches his two favorite boys lying in bed. By the captain’s slight snoring Eric knows he’s sleeping soundly. He watches the dark grey kitten who lies protected and shaded by Magnum's burly arm. Eric imagines the three of them by the docks, the kitten following Magnum like his little shadow. Eric realizes then what his nickname should be.

"Goodbye Shadow," Eric whispers faintly. "Be good for daddy until I get back."

He walks to Dark's office and is surprised to see he's alone. The other man sits at his desk reading an ancient book. A record Eric isn't familiar with plays in the background, music fuzzy and singing tinny. It sounds old. Probably a hundred years at least.

The other man doesn't bother looking up. He knows who it is.

"Where's Wilford?" asks Eric, arms folded around himself, forever afraid to be in a room alone with the other man.

"I could ask the same about your captain."

Eric beams. His captain.

Dark sighs, setting down his book. He scrubs a hand over his face. Annoyed eyes settle on Eric’s.

"If you must know he's trying to fix the air conditioner."

"Why?" asks Eric, completely dumbfounded.

It's December.

A long-suffering Dark shakes his head.

"I don't know, you'd have to ask him."

Eric would rather not.

"Dark?"

Dark seems like he actually looks at him this time, not through him.

"Hm?"

"I was thinking and... well, um, you never told me what you thought a- about my talisman."

Dark blinks hard at the memory. They're sitting by his desk, a tenseness between them, and Eric is trying hard not to remember that lapse in judgement. Determined not to bring up old wounds, Dark clears his throat.

"Ah. Yes. I was meaning to tell you, but... you know."

He grabs a leather-bound notebook out of his desk and flips through pages. He finds what he's looking for and shows it to Eric. There's a crude sketch he supposes is Dark's. It's of the amulet. He casually realizes that the fish is facing the opposite way of his but lets the slip up slide.

Eric's vision scans over Dark's eloquent penmanship covering the pages. Eric reads through what he has.

Dark watches as Eric stops breathing. Lungs misfiring, Eric’s vision snaps up to him, wide-eyed, mouth agape.

"There's a second pendant."

Eric can't believe his own voice. He hears it through a tunnel.

"Somewhere in the Caribbean. No one's quite sure, but I marked the most likely possibilities."

"How did- how did you find out all of this?"

Dark smirks, body starting to buzz.

"I have my ways."

Eric is pretty sure by his expression he should stop asking questions.

"C- can I borrow this?" Eric rushes out, standing with an urgency he hasn’t had in months.

"It's yours."

Eric thanks him and turns. Once he’s in the hallway he takes off into a run. He has to get back to the captain. This could change everything. Magnum was still in danger from his own curse. His partner had given up his own protection for him. Eric finally had a way they could get it back.

He almost breaks down the door as he barges into their bedroom, reminiscent of Wilford all those months ago. Magnum startles in bed, Shadow still somehow sleeping peacefully atop him.

Breathless, Eric beams, uttering words that were going to change their life:

"Do you want to go on an adventure?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading my story. Batten Down has meant a lot to me over the past several months. I actually started it four days after AHWM came out lol. Life got in the way, but eventually I got to work on it again, and I couldn't be happier that it's actually finished. :) It means the world to me that all of you have read it. <3 Thank you. 
> 
> I also ended it the way I did because I'm working on a sequel at the moment, though I have several other stories in the works, too (some will be this ship, along with other ego ships). I'll be posting a couple of those soon, so look out for those if you're interested. :) 
> 
> So, is anyone interested in a sequel? I'll probably continue writing it anyway, lol, but I'm curious.


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